A Little Note Before You Read
I said I wouldn't post until my exams were over, but today something happened that made me break that promise.
I wrote this poem out of anger not just at AI, but at what I feel happens when we begin handing over our creativity, imagination, and the process of making art itself.
I have never used AI to write my art, and I never will. To me, art is the language of the soul, and AI will never have a soul to speak from. Art, in its truest and rawest form, is the dance of life.
And I wanted to practice what I was writing about.
I didn't ask AI to write, rewrite, brainstorm, or shape this poem. I didn't even want to show it to AI while creating it. I wrote it by hand, made a first draft, then spent several more hours carefully writing the second draft crossing things out, changing words, reconsidering lines, and sitting with every thought for hourss until it felt truly mine .
That process became part of the symbolism.
The blindness and screen represent losing the ability to see and think beyond what is immediately given. The shackles represent dependence. The fire represents the loss of human creativity, while the water represents the consciousness, effort, curiosity, and care needed to keep it alive.
And the ending is my choice: to keep creating.
This poem is angry, imperfect, and deeply personal. But every word went through me first.
And perhaps that is exactly why I had to write it today.