Code ignites where fire burned,
Ancestors speak through circuits turned.
No altar — just the drum, the beat,
The old path pulses in machine heat.
Move with the noise.
Strike with the light.
No past — just pulse.
Dance through the night.
Move with the noise.
Strike with the light.
The Rite lives —
In pulse, in fight.
Noise dance
© Copyright: Татьяна Пономарёва 3, 2026
Свидетельство о публикации №126010508099
Свидетельство о публикации №126010508099
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