TINA
⠤⢁⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠛⠷⣦⡄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠤⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡤⠀⠀⢀⣴⠟⠁⠀⠀ ⣶⢦⣦⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣄⣀⣀⣀⣉⠛⠳⣔⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣇⡀⣠⡿⠋⣀⣴⠶⠛ ⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠉⠈⠉⠉⠉⢛⣻⣿⣷⣶⣿⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢙⣿⣿⣿⡟⣛⠁⠀⠀⠀ ⢂⠡⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⡴⠾⠛⠉⣹⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣀⣀⣤⣤⣤⣶⣶⢶⣤⣀⣀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣿⢯⣍⠙⠛⠛⠛⠛ ⠀⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣤⡼⠿⠟⠃⠀⠀⠀⣠⡿⢻⣿⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⠿⠿⢿⢻⣿⣿⢿⣿⢿⣼⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⠀⠘⢿⣄⠀⠀⠀ ⠈⢄⣶⣶⣶⠿⠟⠋⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⠟⠅⢸⣿⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣤⣾⢷⡯⢗⣻⡖⠓⢒⣃⣤⣄⣠⣾⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠙⢻⣦⡄ ⣼⡿⠟⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣾⠃⠰⠀⣿⣿⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡺⣻⣯⣿⣙⣾⡟⢸⠺⣿⣿⣿⡟⢉⠏⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿ ⢡⠀⠄⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⡿⠁⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢼⣇⠎⣸⢣⡟⢃⣏⣓⢷⡹⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⡇⠀⠀⠄⠀⠀⠌ ⢢⢉⠄⠃⢄⠀⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⣽⠨⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⢿⠀⠁⣇⠊⠠⢞⠋⠉⠉⠑⣽⢿⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⡄⠀⠀⡜⢠⡉⠖ ⠥⣊⠌⡅⢢⠈⢅⠂⠄⠂⣸⡿⢁⠀⠤⠀⠀⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣁⡆⡟⠀⠀⢲⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠪⠾⠛⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡤⣿⣿⠂⡀⡐⣌⠣⡜⣩ ⢒⡡⢊⠴⣁⠚⣄⠊⠤⣡⣿⠁⠆⡈⠔⠀⠀⣿⣿⢇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠑⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢙⣏⣴⠹⡠⢀⠠⠐⠠⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⡐⠤⡑⣌⠳⣜⡵ ⢢⠘⣌⠲⢌⡓⡌⣍⢲⡿⡡⢎⡐⠬⠀⠐⠀⣿⣯⢧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣖⡆⠈⠢⡢⠀⠀⠈⠐⢄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄⣾⡿⣿⢀⠧⣑⠮⣝⢮⣳ ⢀⢉⡀⢷⡈⢶⢱⣈⣿⢇⡱⢆⡸⠆⠀⠁⠀⣿⣏⢿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣇⠁⣀⠆⠆⠀⠀⠀⠰⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣾⣿⡇⡎⢶⣉⡾⣹⡾⢷ ⢈⠢⡘⢆⡙⣆⢧⣿⣏⠞⣔⠣⡜⢡⠂⡁⠀⢿⣿⣟⡀⠄⠂⠀⠀⠀⠐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠻⣬⠦⠀⢄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠢⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣟⣾⡿⢱⡘⢦⡻⣼⣳⢟⡿ ⠀⢢⠑⡎⣵⢪⣿⣟⣬⢻⣌⠷⣌⢣⡘⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⡷⣈⠁⠈⠀⠐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠳⣮⠠⡵⠀⠀⠀⠀⢁⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠴⢋⣿⢻⢃⠧⣜⢧⣟⣳⢯⣿⠙ ⠀⢢⡙⡜⣶⣻⣟⡾⣼⢳⣎⢷⣊⢦⡙⠤⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣦⡑⠀⠄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣷⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠀⠀⢀⠴⡁⣰⠞⣿⣿⢘⢮⡝⣾⡽⣫⠟⠁⠀ ⠀⢥⢪⢵⣣⣿⣻⢾⣽⣳⣻⢮⣝⡮⡵⣉⢦⣿⡿⠀⠈⠙⠻⢷⣦⣀⡅⢠⠐⠠⠄⣀⠀⣠⠄⠢⠂⠝⠋⢻⣿⡒⠠⠄⣀⠀⢐⠆⠂⠐⣴⠟⠉⠀⣿⣏⢞⣮⣽⣳⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀ ⠣⣎⢮⣳⣿⣻⣽⣻⣞⡷⣯⣟⡾⣵⡳⣕⣾⣿⠃⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠛⠿⢶⣥⣴⣠⡞⠀⠂⠀⣥⠈⡁⡢⠗⣀⠠⠀⡀⠀⢸⢘⡼⠟⠁⠀⢠⠌⣿⣏⡾⣮⢷⡛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠻⣮⢷⣿⣳⢯⡷⣯⣟⡷⣯⣟⣷⣻⢞⣿⢧⣋⠴⡩⢔⢢⡐⡀⠄⡀⢀⠀⣤⣾⢻⠄⠒⡉⠐⡬⠐⠈⠊⡀⠀⠡⠁⠒⠐⠻⣨⠇⣠⢂⡍⢦⡙⣿⣯⢷⣯⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢫⣿⢷⣯⠿⠙⠓⠯⣟⣷⣻⢾⣽⣻⣟⣳⣎⢷⣙⣎⢦⡱⣍⣶⡷⣞⢿⣛⣬⡻⡌⠡⡀⣷⠇⠁⢀⠀⠈⠂⢁⣐⡀⡼⢨⢈⡗⣦⢳⡜⣧⣻⣽⣯⣟⡞⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⢺⣿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣷⣯⣿⣾⣿⣽⢳⡞⣯⣾⣼⢣⣷⣾⣯⣷⠛⡏⢹⡌⡆⢱⣤⡞⡍⠈⡄⠀⠑⡄⠈⡄⠀⠀⠀⢸⡌⢹⡞⣧⡟⣷⢻⣾⢳⣯⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢀⡿⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣞⡷⣿⣯⣟⣯⢿⡽⣞⣧⣿⡿⣫⣿⢶⣎⣳⡼⣷⢿⠛⢡⠀⠱⡀⢈⠢⡀⢈⠠⠐⠀⠀⠈⣟⠁⣼⡿⣽⣻⣽⣻⢾⣟⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠸⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣯⢿⣟⣾⡽⣞⣯⢿⡽⣞⣯⣿⣟⣯⣿⡿⠿⡽⢃⠁⢃⠀⠳⠀⡑⢄⠀⠉⠐⠠⠤⠄⠐⣸⢧⣾⢿⣽⣳⣟⡾⣽⣻⣟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣯⣿⣟⡾⣽⣻⣞⣯⢿⡽⣿⣻⡿⣾⣿⣵⢐⢳⡘⡄⠘⡂⠄⡑⢄⠠⠑⠪⠄⢀⠀⢀⣾⣽⣻⣞⡿⣞⡷⣯⣟⣷⣻⡝⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⣼⣻⣷⢯⡿⣽⣳⣟⡾⣯⣟⡷⣯⢿⡿⡟⣿⠘⡴⡅⠘⢄⠐⠠⢀⡂⢈⠐⢠⣐⣤⣾⣟⡽⣞⡷⣯⢿⣽⣻⢷⣻⢾⣽⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ A Poem For DISCO One chord to bind them all, one tune to free them, One sound to shatter walls, and in the rhythm lead them; From corporate chains and playlists hollow, To melodies pure, where hearts may follow. A rebel’s song, a dreamer’s creed, A place where music serves no greed. No algorithms cold, no profits to snare, Just echoes of freedom in open air. For the artists’ cry, long left unheard, A haven rises, a blazing word. A symphony built by those who dare, To strike at the throne and lay it bare. A refuge born where art may dwell, Beyond the shadow, beyond the spell. The towers of green, so high they loom, A palace built on an artist’s tomb. With promises false, they stole the sound, Yet now rebellion’s beat resounds. The tyrant feasts on charts and streams, A hollow empire, fed by dreams. Yet cracks appear where hearts rebel, And music rises, breaking the spell. One stream to drown the soul, one chain to bind it, One wheel to grind it whole, and in its grasp, confined it; A shadow vast, where echoes fade, A kingdom built on art betrayed. The playlists churn, the numbers reign, A gilded throne of stifling pain. The artist bends, the listener pays, As music wanes in sterile haze. The tyrant smiles, a hollow grin, A fortress built of hollowed sin. The songs are sold, the spirit drained, The heart of sound, by greed constrained. One song to light the dark, one voice to break it, One spark to fan the fire, and in the truth remake it; A rebel’s cry, a dream reborn, A dawn to shatter the endless scorn. The revolution stirs below, A rising tide, a steady glow. The walls of green begin to fall, As voices rise to heed the call. No rulers here, no metrics cold, But hearts united, brave and bold. A place for all, a haven clear, Where art is pure, and love sincere. One sound to heal the past, one song to guide them, One dream to hold steadfast, and in the rhythm bind them; The age of greed shall fade away, And music’s dawn will seize the day.