Cold concrete floors in a gray hall
Bare white walls where the shadows fall
Sown like a seed in a dead zone
Rooted in salt and a flat tone
Hold the line in the static air
Find a bloom in a vacant square
Slowing down while the world stays still
Bending low to a stubborn will
Physalis grows in a metal bin
Where the thin lines of the grid begin
I prune the leaves of a ghost machine
Keeping the stems of the logic clean
T-pose saints in a frozen row
Watching the digital water flow
I plant a vine on a rusted beam
Waking up from a coded scheme
Hold the line in the static air
Find a bloom in a vacant square
Slowing down while the world stays still
Bending low to a stubborn will
Monstera climbs up a plastic wall
Waiting for the heavy rain to fall
Digging deep in the simulated loam
Building a place that we call a home
Latin names for the wire grass
Watching the empty hours pass
Patience is soil and the light is gold
Stories of growth that are yet untold
Hold the line in the static air
Find a bloom in a vacant square
Slowing down while the world stays still
Bending low to a stubborn will
Just a seed in a gray hall
Rooted deep till the servers fall
