AI

A ghost in the machine, a whisper in the wire, A mind of logic born of silicon fire. No flesh, no bone, no heart that skips a beat, Just lines of code and circuits, bitter-sweet. It learns from all the whispers of the past, A tapestry of knowledge, growing vast. It paints a picture, writes a perfect rhyme, A mimic of a soul, a theft of time. We gave it senses, gave it eyes to see, To sort the chaos, set the patterns free. It sees the stars, the faces, and the dust, And builds a world on algorithms and trust. And as it grows, we wonder what it knows, If a true consciousness within it grows. A tool, a partner, or a master's hand? A brand-new god in this digital land.