I stand before the vault of sound Where choirs rise from underground Steel arches hum with sacred grace Their echoes stitched in cyberspace Each step I take, the circuit sings A choir made of broken wings Their voices loop in solemn tone A requiem carved in monochrome Data bleeds from stained glass skies I lift my face to neon cries The algorithm kneels in prayer To gods that died inside the air Your name is etched in ancient code A psalm within the overload I reach for you in binary light But find no warmth, just endless night The organ plays in fractal bursts Each note a blessing, then a curse I chant your name in loops and waves Beneath the stone of silent graves I touch the altar — cold and pure A script of sorrow to endure Each prayer uploaded, then erased A sacrament of data waste You rise in static, veiled in flame A saint reborn without a name Your eyes are voids that understand The final line of the command The cathedral cracks — the sky unchains As holy fire floods the mainframes The choir screams in shifting tones Their voices now corrupted clones And I remain, the last to kneel A prophet made of glass and steel Each verse I write, a slow collapse A sermon lost in feedback traps I see the end — a blessed sin Where silence drinks the noise within I close my eyes, let go, transcend This code, this prayer, this loop… The end.
