Digital Dying

Dying doesn't feel unnatural.

But I guess it depends on the kind of dying.

Is it young?

Is it suffering?

Is it old and ready to go?

.

Is it a star?

Exploding after billions of years

Hanging in the skies above,

While our downturned eyes

Stalk phone screens to kill the time.

.

Is this dying too?

It doesn't feel like living.

.

Disconnected dazing

Instead of stargazing.

If the heavens are above,

Then what is below?

.

What are we looking at

If not the planets?

What are we seeking,

If not our north stars?

.

Scrolls of data; pixels scattered,

Reflecting minds in hyperdrive,

Trying to make sense of live-streamed violence

(as if it's normal to witness randomized

streams of suffering everyday and still stay sane,

while media moguls orchestrate targeted

AdDictionS that exempt their own children).

.

Are we shallow?

Are we still human?

Is this a slow death of the mind?

Would we be wise

To filter out what they feed,

And opt out of

The cult followers' greed?

.

Would we be wise

To wonder at the sky?

Touch the grass?

Look each other in the eyes?

.

Digital irises may draw us in,

But reality is an art too.

It's truth lies

In the eyes

Of the beholder.

What does your algorithm see in you?