Black mirrors glare, unblinking eyes,
Reflecting hollow rooms and pallid faces.
Our fingertips tap-dance on glass,
Seeking warmth in cold digital spaces.
The hum of servers, a lullaby
For dreams deferred and hopes unmade.
We feast on light and swallow whole
The pixelated masquerade.
Outside, the world spins madly on,
Trees shed leaves we cannot touch.
We are islands, each adrift,
Connected, yet apart so much.