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Nylee 2d
We are yielding to it in every phase,
Our own cognition grows faint and low.
We built intricate webs of thought,
Now code streams, where bright ideas go.

The ceaseless flood of digital tides,
The seamless assistance AI provides.
No space to strive, we're the data it feeds,
We heed the tech giants' gilded deeds,
And craft fresh forms of digital greed,
Become hooked and mesmerised
By new tales it feeds, new strategy devised.

The algorithms churn in server halls,
No truth escapes, behind those tall walls,
What unseen shifts, what hidden thralls.
So we are growing weaker still,
Our keenest senses start to chill.

The world is a filtered, growing haze,
Authentic feeling, no longer stays.
Nylee 7d
Me, mine, my and I
how, who, what, why?
No, not at all, try
Somehow, so possessive
A monstrous instinct
This ego needs to die.
Nylee Feb 20
It was never mine if it is gone.
If it comes back, still it can go
what is mine can never be gone.

Temporal nature, temporarily, most things come as a loan
One fine day, all deals be done and I'd be gone.
The body will remain, because it wasn't mine
I'll be fine where I'll be with all that's me and mine,
A new body or none.

It was never mine if it is lost.
If it returns, still it can be tossed.
What's truly mine can never be crossed.

Ephemeral, like morning frost,
Most pleasures come at a heavy cost.
One fateful day, the game will be played, few lost.
The breath will cease, the heart might stop.
For this frail form, the body won't gallop.
I'll be fine where I'll be, with all that's of high importance,
Me, and mine, a soul released, and won.
A new form or none?
Nylee Feb 7
am I an observer
or a participator,
this life, a reel or real
am I whole, or partial?
this is all surreal
are we living
or watching time spill
doing nothing
rotating in this cosmic realm,
starting where we started,
ending where we end,
rolling the rock up the mountain
watching it fall
traveling back up again.
what is the deal?
we know the prison,
let's dig up the tunnel.


am I a spectator,
or a perpetrator,
this death, a dream or dire,
am I fractured, or entire?
this is all infernal,
are we decaying,
or watching shadows crawl,
doing something,
descending into this chthonic realm,
starting where we're buried,
ending where we're born,
our remains part of the earth,
watching it crumble,
crawling back down again.
what is the ordeal?
we know the freedom,
Are we combusting chemical?
Nylee Feb 1
Maybe I am not assisted by AI,
maybe he is, who am I to ask why?
Maybe in future nobody will try,
we will assist AI, and it will thrive
AI will be me without a life.
Nylee Jan 27
A heart adrift in the fields of pain, I wander, restlessness as my guide.
Each face tells a story I long to mend, yet my hands feel useless and desperate, tied.
Empathy flows, a river deep, but real solutions feel out of reach.
Their suffering echoes, my own heart weeps, a foolish savior on a lonely beach.

Yet in this shared despair, a flicker might ignite,

A hand outstretched, a voice in the endless night.

Snow is melting beneath my feet,

You and I, unnecessarily meet.
Nylee Jan 22
Nothing is personal
It's just your ego
dramatically making it seem
the trash is all over you.
Nylee Jan 16
This world of illusion
I walk like an alien
It feels a lot foreign
For nothing adds up.
Movement is free
but heavily charged,
I see paradoxes
in everything that's been said,
Nothing is completely true.
In relative world
We uphold the burden
Of being false
From other point of view,
I don't doubt
You don't agree with me
that's fine, is it?
Nylee Jan 8
Sometimes I think I run too fast
Sometimes I pause for too long
The frequency of heart beat varies
but it is the right one at the time
The graph goes up and down
My brain goes round and round
It's twisted but a straight line
Many doubts but faith underlined
The universe is a deep inhale and inside
Pass through the flower valleys of soul
The feeling of complete and whole.
Nylee Jan 4
For it was backwards,
The time, what difference would it make?
The old-age and babyhood are like parallels,
And the middle, we pave.
Slowly losing memory at both ends,
It will be as good as anyday.
But around us, we'd be restoring beauty back.
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