ELECTRIC LULLABY

Setting

A city at night, or perhaps a deserted room

A low, rounded beat plays through headphones.

It's fast outside. It's quiet inside.
The protagonist is caught in the middle of this difference in speed.

What's happening?

Noise, data, and frequency aren't "attacks" but rather act like a nerve-wracking massage.

Thoughts aren't tightened, but loosened.

The person I was yesterday, trying to be strong, is naturally slipping away.

The important thing here is
not trying to change.
This poem isn't about "growth" or "awakening."

The protagonist's inner self

Amidst all the speed, he deliberately chooses "slowness."

Waviness does not equate to failure.

Waviness touches upon the truth.

He stops receiving the words "It's okay" from others and instead lets them ring within himself.

The role of sound

The beat doesn't incite.

It embraces, protects, and helps people breathe again.

It's electric, yet not aggressive.
It functions as a lullaby.

In a word:

"A scene where you embrace yourself before you break down, not after."

It's not peak time at the club.

Late at night, on a vacant dance floor.

Or inside a private room.