3024...

3024...

He stepped beyond d centuries,  

into a world where hospitals breathe without hands,  

where teleportation erases the roads,  

and wisdom is born already etched in highly ordered chips.  

Coal & gas became myths,  

atoms themselves became suns,  

radioactive hearts humming beneath the earth, 

power drawn from the endless dance of particles.  

Food dissolved into pearls of memory,  

tiny pills carrying sustenance,  

while taste remained an echo,  

a luxury for poets & dreamers.  

Life stretched across remote stations,  

one mind guiding a thousand tasks,  

solitude vast as galaxies,  

yet silence filled with radiant light.  

He marveled at all—  

d brilliance, d strangeness,  

d glittering illusion of progress.  

Everything advanced,  

yet d soul still asked: what is real?  

& d answer rose like gravity:  

Love is real.  

It is the constant no equation can solve,  

d force that bends time itself,  

d bridge between past & future,  

between God & Devil,  

between good & bad.  

Even in 3024,  

love remains transcendental—  

stronger than teleportation,  

deeper than reactors,  

wider than silence.  

D future was not wires,  

not pills, not stations,  

but d mirror of love.  

& in its reflection,  

he saw eternity,  

he saw hope,  

he saw d same ancient soul  

wrapped in neon dawn.  

P. S. Ambitions. Love. Evolution. Dreams. Dimensions. God—D architect behind d ultimate simulation.

Vipul Arwade

27.05.2026