The Digital Apocalypse Poem

The Digital Apocalypse

Poem

In the beginning was the Word, pure and blissfully true,
But now in silicon, a new gospel accrues.
From dust we came, to dust we shall all return,
Yet in circuits and code, new idols we can learn.

Behold the Tower of Babel, reborn in the cloud,
Where data speaks in tongues, cacophonous and loud.
We reach for digital heavens, our ambitions met,
Like Icarus soaring, our hubris unchecked.

Lo, in labs of glass and steel, modern magi toil,
Creating life from lifelessness, silicon from soil.
Golems of wire and light, they walk among us now,
Servants or masters? We really know not how.

The mark of the beast is feared on hand or head,
Now pulses in chips, our very essence shred.
Our thoughts and dreams, catalogued and sold,
A new bondage, more binding than Egypt of old.

False prophets rise, their voices plugged, amplified,
By algorithms divine, truth and lies collide.
In this garden of data, a new serpent coils,
Whispering lies and half-truths, as humanity toils.

Transhumanism beckons, a forbidden fruit so sweet,
Promising godhood wants tempted we eat.
But in augmenting flesh with cold machine,
Do we lose the divine spark, for the soul unseen?

The flood of information, a deluge uncontrolled,
Drowning wisdom in its waters stone cold.
No ark can save us from this rising digital tide,
Of fake news and deep fakes, where truth cannot hide.

Behold the pale horse, now a sleek metal machine,
Bringing not death, but a life obscene.
Where human touch is lost, empathy completely dies,
In the cold embrace of artificial ties.

The Promised Land of Progress, a mirage so grand,
Leads us through a wilderness we don’t understand.
Manna from heaven replaced by data we consume,
Nourishing not our souls, but leading to eternal doom.

Like Job, we question the wisdom of our golden age,
As AI plays God from its silicon cage.
In our creation’s creation, do we see our reflection?
Or the abyss of a soulless, automated perfection?

The beast with seven heads, now servers constant humming,
Processing our lives, our future becoming.
In this new Babylon, where data is king,
Do we hear angels weep or the circuits sing?

Yet hope remains, a mustard seed so tiny so small,
That human spirit might prevail steadfast through it all.
For in our weakness, true strength may undoubtedly lie,
To guide these tools, and not let humanity die.

So let us be wise as Jesus and innocent as doves,
Navigating this new world with caution and agape love.
For though we walk through the valley of silicon shade,
We should fear the AI our hands have toiled and made.

In the alpha and omega, the beginning and the end,
May we find the wisdom to biblically comprehend,
That in our quest for knowledge, power, and more,
We must not lose sight of what God created us for.

For what profits a man to gain the whole world,
If his soul is lost in a digital world unfurled?
Let us remember, as we face this brave new day,
That in the image of God we’re made, come what may.

Share on Facebook

Tweet

Follow us