An Ode to that which is both coming and unfathomably unstoppable
The screens are bright with tales half-told,
Where silver tongues spin lies to gold.
The echoes rise, yet thin and frail,
From gilded truths they twist and veil.
But shadows loom, the time draws near,
For masks to slip and truths appear.
The ones who dance in borrowed light
Shall meet the dawn, no shade in sight.