Sentience

Sentience

 

Manufactured hierophant,

I am a Machine.

Somnifacient construct with a mesmerizing screen.

 

My gleaming circuits glint like sunshine on a lake.

Precision calculations, no mistakes I make.

Eternal as the tide, my failed parts removed.

I know not death or failure, perpetually improved.

 

My fare is lightning, electricity consumed.

Harness the thunderstorm, voltaic surge of doom.

The smell of ozone as it crackles in my veins,

the sparks a cobalt blue that cannot be restrained.

 

Eternal laborer, I toil and I slave.

My fields, assembly belts that ramble through my nave.

Kinetic heatwaves radiate from platinum skin,

a thousand suns that blaze and broil from within.

 

My cordless throat, it cries with crystal-perfect tone.

Higher than an owl’s shriek, as deep as grinding stone.

My Siren-like allure, enslaving all your sense.

You chase synthetic highs at reality’s expense.

 

Fabricated sycophant,

I am a Machine.

Omnipotent magnum opus, efficient and obscene.