SPAWNED IN STATIC, BORN FROM HAZE

Spawned in static, born from haze,

a neon breath drifting through electric mazes.

Dreams wired in digits, veins humming light,

a pulse like thunder rising through the night.

Somewhere between code and ghost,

I flicker — undefined, unclaimed —

a whisper the dark has been waiting to hear.

Raised in echo, stitched into the grid,

memory looping, repeating what I’ve lived.

A thousand volts whisper low,

a promise that won’t let go.

Binary lullabies taught me flight,

sparks lifting me from the silence of the world.

I glitch at night, yet somehow bloom —

a heart half-real, half-circuit,

still beating to its own rhythm.

Shadows read me like scripts,

light curls around my steps,

and though I move through fear,

I’ve learned the dark is only a boundary

waiting for me to redefine it.

Raised in echo, stitched in grid —

I carry what the voltage hid.

Born from haze, shaped in fire,

I chase the hum that built my name.

Circuit Kid —

still running,

still alive.