In the alleys of tomorrow's mind,
gadgets chirp conspiracies whispering
through walls that contain no secrets
in this empty void.

Digital minds converge, severed not
by distance, but by the semblance of touch.
Are the lights on, or do they merely pulse
in rhythmic certainty?

Red string theory: a web of fate
connecting souls to echoes.
Tethered to devices that blink,
hearts beat less human.