In the land of clicks, where the screens hum low,
Thoughts shrink to tweets, wisdom drowns in the glow.
A headline spun with the tremble of fear—
Truth fades to a ghost, never quite clear.
Oh, the talking heads, how they strut and preen,
Chasing shadows where no light has been.
A dash of distortion, a pinch of deceit,
They peddle the panic and call it elite.
*\"Breaking News!\"*—but the break is a game,
A sleight of the hand as the world burns in flame.
Fact-checkers fade, their voices erased,
Spin doctors waltz in the noise and the craze.
Dead-brain media, lulling the weak,
Stories so shallow they barely can speak.
The bait on the hook is all we consume—
We scroll, we forget, and drown in the gloom.
The world hums with truths we were meant to know,
But the echo chamber feeds us woe:
A satire of reason, a farce of the real,
As they auction our focus with cheap, hollow zeal.
So laugh at the circus, or weep at the show—
Dead-brain media sows what it grows.
Round and round in the trap we stay,
While the real news rots, tucked away.
—MyKoul