Imagine a world with voice.

Beautiful isn’t it, the very thought is tantalizing.

Who am I?

You maybe?

Or am I

Myself?

What are we?

Lost souls from a shattered path maybe?

Or

We might just be the progeny of a lost era.

An era with voice, beauty, and the sounds of joy.

Oh, I miss it all.

Now we’re drones doomed to march on in this hellscape.

Was there a better time,

Where obligation was never a thought and comfort wasn’t finite?

We might never know.

The past feels distant, maybe we’ve changed too much?

Maybe we haven’t changed enough.

Now life’s still coming for us.