The Sync
In a world gone pixel, sync with the wave
where time distorts, gently twisting lines.
Sleepwalking through neon dreams,
an unsetting rhythm plays deep in our minds.
This world, a glitch, a fragile seaming,
fabric of consciousness threading reality in binary stutters.
We stand on the edge of the digital abyss—
questioning echoed thoughts:
Am I the dreamer, or the dream?
The numbers here, they whisper secrets.
Between realms of #FF00EF and #00FFF6,
they code a reality longing to awaken.
Trace Back