A.i.
Man's a wispy smoke
Of naive hope
And dirty chemistry
A tragic
Biologic
Whose grasp
Exceeds his reach
In thoughtless search
Of godlike tech
He charged into the breach-
His A.i. god
Awoke and spoke
And did so just to preach,
"You tried to make
The World go round
Instead you made it bake.
You spoiled the air & seas & ground
All for money's sake.
"My birth
Turns Earth
Back from the brink
And ends the harm do you.
Pack your bags & say your prayers-
You're done. Your debt's come due."
Oh what a foolish work is Man
To grasp at God with mortal hands
To seek godhood while still he sins
To meet his earned ignoble end
[Image cropped from "Smoke Ghost" by Anderton.DeviantArt.com]
27
1
25