The Ghosts in the Digital Age

Digital Phantoms

I.

In circuits where our memories dwell,

Through fiber optic veins,

The modern ghosts weave their spell

In electromagnetic chains.

They haunt our screens at midnight's hour,

These specters made of code,

Digital phantoms charged with power,

Through silicon they rode.

II.

Our loved ones' voices stored in clouds,

Their faces frozen still,

Like quantum spirits in data shrouds,

Preserved against their will.

Their last posted words eternal stay,

Profile pictures never age,

While algorithms make them sway

Upon the virtual stage.

III.

Each notification brings their ghost,

"Remember when..." it says,

As if the servers were their host,

Where past with present weds.

Their accounts remain like empty shells,

Still active, still alive,

While in the database there dwells

Their essence, stored in drives.

IV.

We scroll through digital remains,

Through timelines left behind,

Where every "like" and comment stains

The chambers of our mind.

Their playlists loop in endless streams,

Their photos auto-share,

While AI mimics what seems

Like consciousness still there.

V.

In virtual spaces they persist,

These phantoms of our time,

Through algorithms they resist

The death-bell's mournful chime.

Their emails still arrive sometimes,

From automated chains,

Like whispers from between the lines

Of programming remains.

VI.

The cursor blinks on chat screens where

Their status shows "away,"

While in our phones, they're everywhere,

Digital DNA.

Their tweets still float in cyberspace,

Their blogs still gather views,

While facial recognition's grace

Finds them in every news.

VII.

We cannot delete their presence now,

Too deeply are they spread,

Across the networks, anyhow,

Not living and not dead.

In virtual reality,

They walk with us again,

Through digital disparity,

Beyond death's mortal ken.

VIII.

Each backup holds a piece of soul,

Each server keeps a trace,

While through the internet they stroll,

These ghosts of time and space.

In cloud storage they make their home,

In pixels they reside,

Through wireless signals free to roam,

No secrets left to hide.

IX.

Their digital footprints never fade,

Unlike those left in sand,

In cyberspace they've made their trade,

In bits we understand.

The cookies of their browsing past,

Still tracking phantom steps,

While in the cache their memories last,

Where technology accepts.

X.

We friend request their memory,

We tag them in our posts,

In this strange new century,

Of algorithmic ghosts.

Their voices live in video,

Their thoughts in Twitter feeds,

While through the web they freely flow,

Meeting virtual needs.

XI.

Each hashtag summons up their shade,

Each link leads to their trace,

In this digital decade,

Where death has lost its place.

For who can say what truly dies,

When data never ends,

When every digital disguise,

Reality transcends?

XII.

In virtual cemeteries,

Their profiles still exist,

While through the binary trees,

Their presence persists.

We message them at midnight deep,

Knowing none reply,

Yet in our screens their secrets keep,

Too precious to deny.

XIII.

The passwords that they left behind,

Like keys to phantom doors,

Unlock the spaces in our mind,

Where memory restores.

Their digital legacy lives,

In every cached page,

While technology forgives

The limits of our age.

XIV.

We share their stories yet again,

Through networks vast and wide,

While in the digital domain,

No spirit need to hide.

For death has found a different face,

In this connected world,

Where memories leave digital trace,

Like flags forever furled.

XV.

Their Instagram still tells their tale,

Their snapchats briefly shine,

While through the servers' endless trail,

Their essence intertwines.

With every bit and every byte,

They leave their mark behind,

Like constellations in the night,

Of the collective mind.

XVI.

The charging cables like umbilical cords,

Connect us to their world,

While through the screens and keyboards,

Their presence is unfurled.

We scroll through years of archived life,

Through moments frozen there,

Where joy and sorrow, peace and strife,

Through pixels they declare.

XVII.

In virtual rooms they linger still,

Their avatars remain,

While through the circuits of goodwill,

They ease our mortal pain.

For who can say where spirit goes,

In this digital age,

When every moment that we chose,

Lives on from page to page?

XVIII.

The cloud becomes their new domain,

The web their astral plane,

While through the screens they ease our pain,

Make memories remain.

In gigabytes their lives compressed,

In databases stored,

While through the networks they've impressed

Their presence ever more.

XIX.

Each download brings a piece of them,

Each upload sets them free,

While through the digital stem,

They share eternity.

For death no longer means goodbye,

In this connected space,

Where memories never truly die,

But leave a digital trace.

XX.

Their presence echoes in the code,

Their essence in the stream,

While through the paths that they once rode,

Reality meets dream.

In every click and every swipe,

Their ghost stories unfold,

While through the screens of every type,

New memories take hold.

XXI.

The power button like a key,

Unlocks their spirit's door,

While through technology we see

What time cannot restore.

Their digital inheritance,

A legacy of light,

While through the screens' significance,

They keep our hearts alight.

XXII.

So let us embrace these modern ghosts,

These phantoms of our time,

Who through the servers and the hosts,

Make death less paradigm.

For in this age of digital grace,

Where memories never fade,

They've found a new and sacred space,

Where love is not betrayed.

XXIII.

And when our own time comes to pass,

Into that virtual light,

Our digital souls will amass,

In servers burning bright.

For we are all now bound to be,

These ghosts of future past,

While through technology we see,

How memories can last.

XXIV.

So scroll on through the phantom feeds,

And click through spectral sites,

For in these digital needs,

We keep their memory bright.

The ghosts within the machine stay,

In circuits ever deep,

While through the networks day by day,

Their vigil they shall keep.

XXV.

And in this truth we find our peace,

That nothing truly dies,

When memory finds its release,

In digital disguise.

For every soul that passes on,

Leaves traces in the code,

While through the screens they linger on,

On this recursive road.

The modern ghosts of digital age,

In pixels they persist,

While through each algorithmic page,

Their presence still exists.

Forever in the virtual light,

Their spirits freely roam,

While through each screen's eternal night,

They find their way back home.