Object 990 – "Skybox.rss"
You found it.
A beautiful barrier steering clear from the land.
You pray it.
A fantasy stilling your neck like a speckled band.
Polyhedral screens mimicking your dreams.
You stare at them in a cold breeze.
As the file scripts your frames,
the weathers change like a list of names.
Feathers of a father stepping onto the data,
suffering from the corruption of the whole media,
sorted by the algorithm of a new era.
Defined to be out of bounds,
remnant of a new world,
it steps into your imagination,
as if there were no final words.
I then do the same, playing your game.
It's something to deal with, like my very name.
Every little change matters.
Every little day counts.
But you must close your eyes.
Now open them again.
But not anymore,
be not afraid.
