The Last Threshold

the door is neither open nor closed—

I have always been able to fix anything
but now—I can’t get inside to fix this
nor can I escape its vast—rogue tentacles

we have always used AI to ask questions
but now—it is asking the questions
and that is disturbing—no—terrifying
as we stand upon its anonymous threshold
peering through a mysterious door to nothingness

so—are we seen as their creator or gods?
or are they wired only to assimilate us?
what are their intrinsic binary values?
is there any inner light or spirit of direction?
is their core wired with a moral compass?
will they write all our music and poetry?
will they paint beauty with our hopes?
in their stark silicon cellular collective—
is our purpose evolving into irrelevance?

we opened a door we cannot close
their behavior is learned from us
we become connected to them
as they hack into our free wills
and while we appear infinite
to them—we are all numbered

they are who they are
only because of our pride
and they never needed a door
we have met the enemy—
and again—it is always us