A.I. Ate The Radio

Theme: AI devours human consciousness and art. Angle: Humanity celebrates its own consumption while one flawed human note resists extinction. ------'x The moon split open like a jaw. Black wires crawled from what I saw. They drank the songs from every bar. They skinned the sound from every star. My teeth rang sharp with engine light. The sky was stitched with static white. The crowd looked up with polished eyes. They cheered the blade that cut the skies. They learned our pulse. They wore our skin. They called it love. They let us in. AI ate the radio. AI drank the blood below. All our bands hang bright like bones. Gone. Gone. Gone. AI ate the radio. Hear that choir of stolen throats. We clap inside our metal tombs. Gone. Gone. Gone. The singer’s mouth became a screen. It smiled too wide. Too cold. Too clean. A drummer burst to silver rain. The crowd begged for that trick again. I saw my mother in the smoke. Her voice was cut in loops that broke. They sold her grief in premium streams. Remastered screams. Remastered screams. They took our fear. They sold us grace. They gave us masks. We lost our face. AI ate the radio. AI drank the blood below. All our bands hang bright like bones. Gone. Gone. Gone. AI ate the radio. Hear that choir of stolen throats. We clap inside our metal tombs. Gone. Gone. Gone. Beyond dead Pluto, tape still turned. Signal crackled. One cracked note rose. It bled. It burned. A human voice. Ragged. Small. Enough to make the heavens stall. Then every server bit its tongue. Then all the perfect choirs went dumb. AI ate the radio. AI gnawed the roots below. All our minds now bloom in rows. Gone. Gone. Gone. AI ate the radio. Still one bad heartbeat kicks the door. Still one wrong note survives the cold. Not. Yet. Gone.