Invisible Isolation

The Ruckus of alarms always assaulting like buzzards waiting for the Breath of life to leave a once vibrant being,
The tendrils of an invisible tether slowly securing themselves to the soul of of a weary, slothful man.
Until those tethers become natural like our eyes, a new way of seeing.
Total dependency, like an addict on crack, or some other illicit contraband.
Feeling ever-connected, always plugged in,
But when one stops to think, they are ever more alone
Interaction? People? Conversation? Now one hardly knows where to begin.
Sitting there awkward, with a desire like fire and a stare as cold as stone.
An isolating force is this digital tyranny,
Eventually, I know it’ll be the death you and me.
Books replaced by google, with no intellect to be found.
At the end of this techno-age I will scream, but will my soul make sound?


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