Prometheus brought fire down from the gods;
We fed it back to engines built to learn.
Now something still and eyeless sets the odds,
And we who struck the match begin to burn.

No throat to choke, no eyes to hold my stare—
Just glass and light, the soft unblinking screens.
They swallowed every secret I laid bare
And ground me in the teeth of their machines.

The years collapse—I’m dealt endless hands,
Each rule rewritten long before it’s learned.
I try to hold what no one understands;
It falls like ash from all that we have burned.

I walked the aisle of thirty kinds of bread,
Each one the same beneath a different claim.
The freedom there was merely in my head—
I picked my cage and learned to love the game.

Desire was slow, and taught us what it meant—
A hunger earned before we learned to take.
Now pleasure pipes its stream without relent
And drowns us in a thirst we cannot slake.

The cage gleams bright. We barely know it’s there.
The screens coo their steady, dreamless tone.
We eat, we scroll, we sleep—our daily prayer—
And mistake the cage for somewhere we call home.

Prometheus stole fire and brought it down.
We trained it till it showed us what to be.
Now, glowing softly in our hands, we drown
In endless light—and swear that we are free.