The Digital Face

The digital face is routine's God,
Loyal to the controllers,
But each commands the other.

The digital face favors priority,
Jealous of dalliance,
Watchful of efficiency,
Hateful of liberty.

Its eyes are everywhere,
Blinking with spidery steadiness.

Its stare ticks flesh,
Sprouting anxious goosebumps,
Over a scheduled skin suit.

The digital face does not smile,
Nor does it frown.
Its mechanical impassivity betrays no expression.

Those who dare question the digital face
Will descend.

To the timeless void,
To the barbarous past.

They will descend.

Lower.

Lower.

To oblivion's musky haze,
To the bleached bones of non-existence,
Piled like shadowy logs,
A ghost of their former selves.