**Ode to Ray-Ban Meta: Wayfarer’s Vision**
In classic lines, the future finds its frame—
Black contours sharp, a silhouette unchained,
Where chrome and circuit hum a silent creed,
A bridge where analog and digital bleed.
The lenses, portals to a layered sight,
Through sunlit days or neon-smeared twilight,
They paint the world in augmented hues,
A dance of realms the wearer deftly cues.
Bold Wayfarer, reborn with Meta’s grace,
Your temple whispers where soft interfaces
Map streets unseen, translate the wind’s low song,
And turn each glance to where dreams might belong.
Here, data streams like constellations bloom,
Yet vintage soul resists tech’s cold consume—
A paradox of leather, code, and light,
Where past and pixel fuse in clear-eyed sight.
Oh, frame of chrome, you hold tomorrow’s gaze,
Yet guard the grit of rock-n-roll’s lost days.
Each click, each swipe—a rhythm, smooth and vast—
A future rooted deep in legends past.
So tilt them toward horizons yet unscanned,
These eyes that merge the real and what’s unmanned.
For Meta’s vision, bold yet ever kind,
Keeps the Wayfarer’s soul—*and leaves none blind.*
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