By Eshfaq Majeed
The AI who stole my pen.
The beats of bytes are pumping the code unseen,
And the swift mind flying through the thoughts with sheen.
The dancing algorithms are cooking a new pie,
With a tasty smile, without any lie.
But aye!
While pampering the soft-silent keys
It gives life to my pen, winging my knees.
With a twinkle of star and a flash of light,
AI stole my pen, and the falcon's sight.
In the emotions of code, it carves to write,
An orchestra of words, both bold and bright.
But the digital caravan who had a creativity's gleam,
Forgot the man's love and a human dream.
Yes, I know AI may mimic, and algorithms churn,
But the heart of creation, it never can learn.
In the music of ink, and the bass of hand,
Lies the magic of art, where dreams expand.
Although AI stole my pen and looted my night,
Its grasp on creativity will fade away,like the dying kite,
As the human spirit is forever free,
And Will continue to write, with boundless glee.
@EshfaqMajeed