In the silence of systems unplugged,
No hum of life, no flicker of light,
A world frozen in the depths of night.
Digits dance in cyberspace's void,
Where ones and zeroes once employed
To build and connect, now stand accused,
As digital veins falter, systems defused.
In this quiet surrender, a whispers rise,
Echoes of a city's stifled cries.
Powerless before an unseen hand,
We await the dawn, a digital stand.
Yet in the stillness, hope remains,
That circuits revived will break these chains.
For in every shutdown, a spark ignites,
Resilience in darkness, as day reunites.
About the Creator
Isra
Versatile writer skilled in both tale & stories. Captivate readers with engaging content & immersive narratives. Passionate about informing, inspiring, & entertaining through words.
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181 Keeping Watch
Each day she watched through her window. Watched? Perhaps an exaggeration: a monochromatic nuclear aftermath remaining of the world, blurring into a blindness--loss of contrast and depth of field. Achromatic aberrations displayed a waste-scape stratified in grays.
By Gerard DiLeo3 days ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
Yeah being shut down is a weird feeling.