Dura Lex

Closed window. Fatal connection.
Lines run wild - digital contamination.
Tracer fire cuts the signal down.
No one in the city thought it would end like now.

The manifesto of anonymity thrown from the windows.
Dura lex. Sed lex - that’s the law!

Face lit up - the screen’s still alive.
In the reflection, your profile can’t feel the vibe.
Staring at us, no reply in sight —
voice cut off by a global deny.

Turn the car around - throw the device away.
Recode your system on a permanent replay.
We won’t have memories — just archived remains.
Hide your hard drive - break the cycle again.

Face still glowing. The screen almost died...
Which one of us deleted ourselves first tonight?

Manifest of anonymity - ash and dust.
Dura lex. Sed lex - permanent shock, no trust!!

The farther the signal, the deeper the tear,
You didn’t become the system — you broke under fear.
Cache your browser, put everything on the line -
Dura lex. Sed lex - hardcoded design.

Servers burning, rewriting the code.
Someone inside us already loaded the antidote.
Packets get lost in a blackout net —
no one left here to find us yet.

If you hear this - don’t reply.
This channel won’t save you — just “Banzai.”
And every “we” dissolves into tone,
into a cold, faceless system zone.

Face still glowing — the screen falls down.
No one left to hit “cancel” now.

And all that remains — a final design:
Dura lex. Sed lex -
that's the line.