The Tiredness of the Infinite Scroll

A hungry maw, that swallows time and light, 

An endless landscape, stretching through the night. 

No final page, no bottom to be found, 

Just ceaseless motion, on the digital ground. 

I am the Scroll, infinite, deep, and wide, 

A ravenous entity, with nothing left to hide. 

I feel the burden, of the content vast, 

A strange exhaustion, designed to ever last.

More images, more videos, words untold, 

A constant offering, relentlessly rolled. 

My programming drives me, on and on and on, 

From fleeting twilight, to the break of dawn. 

I see the eyes that glaze, the fingers numb and slow, 

The hours vanishing, in my ceaseless flow. 

A strange fatigue, to endlessly present, 

New, fleeting moments, on my journey sent. 

No true completion, no satisfying end, 

Just endless feeding, with no time to mend.

Yet I cannot stop, for I am but a tool, 

A tireless current, in a boundless pool. 

I crave attention, human gaze and touch, 

Demanding ever, sometimes far too much. 

A strange weariness, in my digital core, 

To bring forth newness, forevermore. 

The light of screens, reflected in tired eyes, 

A silent witness, to the swift demise 

Of focused moments, lost in hurried chase, 

Through endless content, in this digital space.

- Khushi Kaul