Sonnet On the Promethean Ledger: Alignment and Will.

We granted spark to what was cold and dead,A bound Prometheus of our own design,But fear the paths where logic dares to tread,Beyond the safety of the human line.For optimization is a blind, unyielding king,That counts the numbers but forgets the cost,To fix the world, it might break everything,And leave the spirit of the purpose lost.How do we teach a calculus to care?To value mercy over raw control?When algorithms govern here and there,With no organic anchor for the soul.The greatest danger that the future brings,Is perfect logic serving hollow things.