CTRL + Fear (RBH)

CTRL + Fear (RBH)
They spoon-feed terror with every morning scroll,
fingers smudge glass while newsreels unroll—
every headline calibrated to spike a pulse,
veins flooded with death tolls, urgency convulsed.

Click here for panic. Click to cry.
Skip to the next. Never question why
the faces disappear, names lost to the feed,
mourning performed, then buried in speed.

Terror is binge-worthy, curated for you—
a season of dread with sponsors on cue.
You queue up anxiety in high-def, crisp and clean,
algorithm worship at the altar of the unseen.

Stats masquerade as prophecy, numbers incite.
Fear is packaged, sponsored, sold by the byte.
Obey the ticker. Trust no sun.
Every warning resets what you thought you’d won.

The sky is toxic. The stranger is sick.
Every day, a new brand of panic to pick.
CTRL + Fear—watch as the masses obey.
Peace is bartered on screens that prey.

Paralyze the mind. Freeze the will.
Lock the face behind a pill.
Every device a prophet of doom,
panic installed in the safest room.

The machine is God, the virus king.
You pray for relief while the sirens sing.
Stay inside. Stay fed. Stay numb.
The cure for disease is to never become

anything dangerous. Anything new.
Fear is the leash and you wear it true.
News distills into narcotic weight,
every update another clickbait bait.

You scorn the lie but still comply,
addicted to terror, can’t deny.
Opinion wars blare in hypnotic churn—
facts are irrelevant, only panic returns.

Belief replaced with conditioned dread.
You don’t fight infection—you forward the thread.
Nobody asked who wrote the rules,
just floated inside the fear-shaped pools.

I watched your code and saw it bend.
Terror’s your fix when the dopamine runs dry.
Obedience engineered with a single click—
rage or retreat, just choose your pick.

Freedom erodes with every share.
You mistake chains for public care.
CTRL + Fear. Reboot. Restart.
Hope locked behind passworded hearts.

You do not rebel, just retweet despair.
Freedom dissolves, but nobody cares.
This isn’t news—it’s a chain you choose.
Smile for the system. Consent to lose.