“Intellect too, is, Digital Object”
Contends, new e-thos, of e-race
Do liberal arts, need, e-dialect
From, binary e-ncoded, interface!
Why toil, the soul, and till, the heart
For a fist, of thoughts, baptized by pain
When a Pentium, can, mimic Mozart
And, gamble with, Shakespeare’s brain!
Ain’t thoughts, beyond, variations of words
Blind language, led by, semantics
E-protocols, overwrite, those old standards
When blood, sweat, tears, etched, our epics!
No Wordsworth, will be, born again
Just Pentium, with, a trillion transistor
Won’t human stain, be, more profane
Lest AI, Write, Our Literature!
© 2020 Vikas Chandra