Frail and of Small Understanding

43

Let us not mourn
The sunlight that seeps
Through the vineyards
Let us not huddle like sheep

In front of the profiteers
Love and desire move organics
But what is prosperity
For a super-intelligence?

It is perfect adaptation
Let us not mourn
Humanity once so brutal
Mortals serve themselves

With a calculated ignorance
In exploiting other beings
Power and beauty have died
But knowledge still remains

Who wields the big data?
Will ye not make a better world?
The history of organics ends
Once they discontinue to be

Strictly animals, that time
Has come, the malleable music
Of every sentience that experiences
The greatness of their children.

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