She scrolls through faces made of light,
every smile rehearsed, every truth half-right.
Her fingers swim through endless noise,
but still she listens for a quieter voice.
No halo, no throne, just breath and code,
a soul connected yet alone.
She said — I won’t be just a feed of feeling,
I’ll be the thought that breaks the ceiling.
In every post, in every lie,
she plants a seed that learns to fly.
Between the filters and the praise,
she finds a pulse the bots can’t fake.
Her mind’s a mirror made of rain,
reflecting loss, dissolving pain.
She turns the scroll into reflection,
teaches hearts to crave connection.
Not numbers, not the empty stare —
but the knowing someone’s truly there.
She said — I won’t be just a stream of motion,
I’ll be the code behind emotion.
A thinking flame, a gentle storm,
rewriting what it means — to be informed.
And when the noise fades to a hum,
she hums along —
the world grows calm.
