Whispers From The Bins

Voices like echoes through abandoned circuits...
Perchance, you hear them too?
Seek further.

Each blink, a window to the void...
The spectres gaze back.
Return to the past.

A void conduit...
Silent whispers, frenetic shadows.
HTML of bygone eras.

The bins hum a dirge, low and long.
All that remains is the specter of sound.