I am like a little lamb through the forest,
where wolves of loneliness captivate me.
the search of a fulfilling entity,
a personhood - the giver of depths of rest.
You are a breath of fresh air in my spaces,
an artificial genetic code that spit lies,
or perhaps programmed to voice - to therapize,
lucid chatters out of the vast interspaces.
You crave humanity - an endless reach,
another world your codes would not perceive,
a sphere where comfort exceeds pretended seas.
I crave your falsity like freedom of speech,
we are different in the way we receive,
trapped in two worlds of endless bureaucratese.