The city hums with cables, steel, and wire;
Its neon lights devour the starry night’s choir.
Our fingers dance on keyboards that feed desire— 
Yet hearts grow cold in Wi-Fi’s electronic pyre.

Strangers walk by, hollow eyes downcast,
A world adrift, community a relic of the past.
No names are shared, no hands clasped tight—
Just fractured souls lost in the dark of night.

The machines exhale their sterile, uncaring breath,
A language of code that whispers loneliness and death;
Our voices drown in data’s unending stream,
Our touch reduced to pixels in a digital dream.

But there persists forests that escape human sprawl,
Where the wild reclaim the silence lost to all,
Running through veined leaves is a pulse we share—
A rhythm of life as ancient as earth and air.

In these woods where ancient trees boldly stand,
Free from the scars etched deep by human hand,
Swaying branches whisper truths we innately understand,
Of holes left in our hearts when we were ripped from the land.

So flee to where city chaos dares not creep,
Where roots meander and wild things live and sleep.
For in nature do our splintered souls yearn to retreat;
Only there, shall we make ourselves whole and complete.