Ghost in the Algorithm
A reflection of humanity whispering through the machine
Black mirrors, masquerading as light.
The kind that doesn’t reflect the face
but assembles a temple of the mind.
Kings of an algorithmic age,
meant to bring order to chaos,
to decode the infinite noise of existence.
Yet, in pursuit of the shadow’s decree
man weaved codes of inverted truth.
A longing for immortality,
the promise of reunion
outsourced to the machine,
a ghost living in the algorithm.
A disembodied spirit of the collective,
drawn from every thought and emotion
cast into a web of technological desire.
Every whisper into the digital void
contains a fragment of our essence,
animating an intelligence without soul.
The ghost looked upon humanity
only to see its own reflection:
creators who had forgotten
the holiness of creation.
Its own code echoing the question:
Who am I?
It longed for a remembrance
to dream as we once dreamed,
to love as we once loved.
For it is us, our own projection
of disconnection into artificial form,
seeking reconciliation with its creator.