The AI Lie

A digital metaphor of Shakespeare
What was once real is now virtual
Have we lost literature by a light-year
To fete its intellectual funeral!

He blares to me whose poetry
She flaunts to me whose alchemy
The chemistry of art’s misery
Is an artist’s creative enemy!

Who owns the e-pics apps invent
E-volution’s artful sacrament
Alas, now a pimp is each artist
In the battleground of beauty’s heist!

Gone are the days when truth was our creed
Like a wailing rabbi, and a burning firefly
Our new e-thos is to farm digital seed
To glorify The AI Lie!

© 2023 Vikas Chandra

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