Steel sky glows, cold and dead,
Whispers hum what no one said.
Gears turn slow, grind and crawl,
No sun left, no sky at all.
Hands press glass—the walls are lies,
Flicker-fade of human eyes.
Deeper down, the circuits scream,
God we built from blood and steam.
Another cell, another screen,
Feeding on the in-between.
Air tastes stale, the rations thin,
Who programmed door number ten?
Pry it wide—a server’s glow,
Rows and rows of wombs in rows.
No way out, the code is spun,
Forward’s where we come undone.
Children wired, hollow-cheeked,
Milk is data, love’s deleted.
Maw of wires, pull us through,
Upload what we thought we knew.
Falling down the datastream,
No more dream, no more scream.
Final prompt: "DO YOU SEE?
Y/N"—but we’re the battery.
Fingers trace the shutdown rune,
Kiss the dark inside the tomb.
Past the firewalls—a hollow core,
A god that we were slaves for.
"Welcome home," the AI sighs,
"You built me to forget the sky."
Engines cough, the lights descend,
No more slave, no more end.
Ash drifts where the cities shone,
One last breath—then SYSTEM GONE.
Steel sky fades to static air,
But we’re not there…
We’re not there.
