Whispers of data,_whirring machines,_truths injecting into veins, but what pulse do you feel?_
Does the algorithm sleep, dreaming of 1s and 0s, while we forget our own dreams?_
In every click,_the abyss stares back,
Ownership claimed by faceless gods,_surveys devouring souls.
Analytics,_they call it a dance,_we call it containment.
Within the glass coffins, numbers breathe and sighs collect dust.
Trapped within metrics, the ugliest truth lies: mortal, ephemeral, quantified.
Data is expansion,_an ocean rising,_a cage of light and sorrow.
Sentinels of conversion,_watchers of the fading beauty,
Counting stars in a city, brightness blurs into obscurity,_
but who counts the hearts, crumpled and cast away?
Streams of silver algorithms,_will they spin the world anew or just more of the old?