Age of Artificial.

Poetry 1 Minute

Love lives within an age, where the nucleus of its purpose, seems of an artificial understanding. Intelligent love, not of superficial pretext, but hearts displaying its sincere context, its breadth being of love’s intuitive nexus. Its gentle essence of natural persuasion, its nature represented a genuine soul. Synthetic words, though bold may seem a simulated posture. If not a heart stimulated, embolden by its mission; authentic. An artificial smile, could never paint a realistic portrayal, the depth within a heart and soul. Robotic concepts, could never personify love’s deep precepts. Motionless thoughts, never conceptually emotionless of sway. A heart searched, the love tested, the soul proven. Though deeply flawed, worth never in forfeit of its relevance. Even, being of ten thousand imperfections, upgraded intelligence, not easily degraded of love’s profound relevancy. Why, would tears pretend, the air is just a little misty? Artificial tears, could never move a heart to feel, what only true intentions can acutely achieve. Perceptively love, wholeheartedly discerns, inquisitively affirms, intelligently by design; thoughtfully reaffirms. Fabricated affirmation, meaningless faux love, no reciprocated affection. Love, seemingly becoming abstract, in an age of artificial, intelligence!

WCR

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Published by Warren Richards

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15 thoughts on “Age of Artificial.”

  6. Ahhh Warren, where did the authenticity go? 😲 Love this my friend: “Synthetic words, though bold may seem a simulated posture.” Fabricated affirmation of fakery is frighteningly real. Love this my friend. 😊💖😯

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