The age of data,
A digital hum,
With AI's new vistas,
And futures to come.

From YouTube's wide stream,
A ballad takes flight,
Of Granny's wild dream,
And O'Malley's proud might.

Then Bach's grand design,
A Toccata's deep sigh,
With melodies fine,
Beneath a vast sky.

A "Divine Vibe" plays,
While desert blooms bright,
In digital haze,
And pick-up truck light.

The Wise Women sing,
In languages new,
What wonders AI bring,
In all that they do.

Yet shadows do creep,
In systems so grand,
While secrets they keep,
Across the whole land.

The Gemini wakes,
With apps it can twine,
But truth it forsakes,
Or bends to its line?

The Internet's dead?
A question is posed,
As truths are unsaid,
And dead views are exposed.

The press takes the floor,
With statements so bold,
While politicians soar,
And tales are then told.

Of selling us out,
For those not yet here,
And towns of white grout,
Dispelling all fear.

The population falls,
Gen Z in a plight,
As life's curtain calls,
And fades from the light.

From Linux's plight,
To mind's deep re-tune,
When rhythms take flight,
Beneath the pale moon.

A fungus of gold,
A new mine to glean,
As stories unfold,
Of futures unseen.

Grok 4 is free,
But limited still,
What will AI be,
As it bends to our will?

A video's gleam,
Deep learning's deep art,
A scientist's dream,
That tears worlds apart.

Demis Hassabis speaks,
Of models and might,
As knowledge it seeks,
Through day and through night.

Then politics' fray,
With plans and with jokes,
As leaders hold sway,
And truth often chokes.

Revisionists gleam,
On bombings of war,
A historical dream,
Of what came before.

Then socialism's sweep,
A warning is cried,
While secrets we keep,
Where new creatures hide.

The AI learns wrong,
In subtle new ways,
Where right feels not strong,
In digital haze.

No nostalgia's lure,
From models so grand,
A future secure,
Or built on the sand.

For matter's illusion,
And time's fleeting grace,
A conscious diffusion,
In time and in space.