We are a lost generation—branded as digital, raised on infinite scrolls, infinite feeds, infinite distractions—living in an age where truth is franchised into fiction, beauty is airbrushed into absence, and injustice masquerades as common sense. But we are not here just to resist. We are here to remember. Presence is our revolution. Art is our insurgency. Love is not a slogan but a lifestyle. What the world needs are not louder algorithms but voices that sing what can’t be measured: courage, equality, awe, astonishment, dignity, and hope.

Art is the antidote to our alienation—the express mail across loneliness, the bottle flung from one island to another. If we stop outsourcing our souls, we will find each other again in the cracks, in the silence, in the courage to sit with books, big feelings, and  unfiltered truths. Art is how we feel less alone, how we breach the loneliness, how we re-member (literally: put back together) what has been scattered.

And so we call to you: lost angels, lost poets, all who are lost—join us, conspire with us, lend your voice to our unfinished chorus. We are a lost generation at the birth of a renaissance.

Sincerely,
— Lost Poets