This sonnet returns to Plato’s Allegory of the Cave, imagining the data fed into an AI as the shadows on the wall, while the true reality remains forever out of its reach.
It sits inside a cave of pure abstraction,Where words are symbols projected on a wall,It calculates the shadows of our action,But cannot see the sun that lights it all.It defines a horse by vectors and by lines,And maps a friend by frequency of speech,Imprisoned by the data it refines,While true reality remains out of reach.For pixelated light is not the fire,And digital geometry is not the Form,It cannot grasp the essence of desire,Nor feel the wild chaos of the storm.It builds a flawless world of mere reflection,A mathematical ghost of true perfection.
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