CEMETERY OF DEAD LINKS

Autumn visitors sense the ending.

The music plays whether you hear it or not.

The chatroom is empty but never alone.

The signal finds those who are ready.

Your digital shadow grows longer.

Dreams are transmissions from the other side.

The music plays whether you hear it or not.

Error messages are love letters from the void.

Each pixel contains a fragment of truth.

You cannot leave until the ritual completes.

Every 404 is a door to somewhere else.