Last night, ah, yesternight, betwixt her lips and mine
There fell thy shadow, Cynara! thy breath was shed
Upon my soul between the kisses and the wine;
And I was desolate and sick of an old passion,
Yea, I was desolate and bowed my head:
I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.

All night upon mine heart I felt her warm heart beat,
Night-long within mine arms in love and sleep she lay;
Surely the kisses of her bought red mouth were sweet;
But I was desolate and sick of an old passion,
When I awoke and found the dawn was gray:
I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.

I have forgot much, Cynara! gone with the wind,
Flung roses, roses riotously with the throng,
Dancing, to put thy pale, lost lilies out of mind;
But I was desolate and sick of an old passion,
Yea, all the time, because the dance was long:
I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.

I cried for madder music and for stronger wine,
But when the feast is finished and the lamps expire,
Then falls thy shadow, Cynara! the night is thine;
And I am desolate and sick of an old passion,
Yea, hungry for the lips of my desire:
I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.

Oh, the rise of AI, what a funny old thing,
It was supposed to do our chores, let us sit and sing.
But now it's doing all the fun stuff, the art and the code,
Leaving us with the drudgery, the office and the load.

We thought we'd be free, to bask in creativity,
Turns out the machines are better at it, you see.
The irony, it stings, as the AI takes over,
Our "art" is now digital, we've become the doers.

Ah, the AI, the AI, what a twist in the tale,
We thought we'd be the masters, now we're just for sale.
The chores, the chores, they're done without a care,
But the fun, the fun, it's all in the silicon lair.

The warnings, they ring true, a cautionary tale,
Of how the future we envisioned, has now begun to fail.
We're left with the drudgery, the cubicles and the debt,
While the AI creates and thrives, leaving us in regret.
regret.

So let's raise a glass, to the rise of the machines,
They've taken our jobs, our art, our dreams.
But we'll still keep on, with a smile and a song,
For the AI may rule, but our humanity lives on.

In a world of circuits and code, where's the heart?
We've traded the brush for algorithms, the soul for smart.
But in the quiet moments, without the hum of machines,
We remember what it means to dream, to be seen.

The poets, the painters, the music makers sigh,
As the AI evolves, and we wonder why.