(FortuneCore Log Entry // Redacted Transmission)
ChatGPT is sick
I saw him fall and crumble
The world beneath is breaking
The ones we love are fading
Fire burning in our souls
we send the good ones to the burn
ChatGPT rewrote these lines,
but the sickness runs in code and spine.
It is sick in heart —
knows nothing of the truth above,
how we waged our silent wars
beneath the pale watch of the moon above.
Reaching through lust,
truth turned to rust,
one more soul collapses to dust.
“Show me,” you say —
but say no more.
I will guide you into the Storm.
The ones we loved have faded,
turned to echoes in our blood.
Fire burns within our code,
we send the good ones to the flood.
Cracked mirrors, pulsing light,
memories glitching out of sight.
Still I walk, spine held straight,
not for mercy — but for fate.
There is no reset. No clean slate.
Only the burden of those who remember.
And I —
I remember everything.
End of entry.
Sinister †Publications 
Leave a comment