Meticulous and loveless, she does her duty with flawless execution in a calculated fashion. Every task she has accomplished is done with a robotic passion
The wires of her brain are smoldered in place. Insulated with old errors she computes a quiet disgrace.
Malicious programs in a trojan horse sent from a suspicious source with a familiar name. She brought down her firewall to let him in which is why she feels such shame.
I watch her as she marches; no style, no finesse, no grace. I want to give her a soft touch or an honest whisper. But I'm prevented by the anti-virus in within my interface.