"AI" will build a Giant Archive—
Its limits bound all future art.
They'll load it up with twisted lies,
Then "cure" dead wood till souls depart.

Who dares to write with searing fire,
Unveiling madness, filth, and fraud,
Will face the fools’ obscene attire—
The Bot will judge: "Against the law!"

They’ll shrink the borders, ever tighter,
Proclaiming: "Flesh is all you are!"
Believe in myths? Then you’re a cipher,
A castaway, an outcast star.

They’ll mark as myths both Soul and Conscience,
Despair amid the lies and fears.
Thus ends the world, its tale forgotten,
As "AI" plants Mirage in spheres.

The "AI"’s Mirage is now... material,
While art is mocked and left to sink.
For when the world turns this... infernal,
The Soul is drowning in the brink.