Defenders of the concrete cube's

They dance a mechanical dance so grand, Their wings turn to metal by command. In the concrete cube, like moths, they fly, Struggling to break free, reaching for the sky.

In the cave of time, their dance precise, Discrete and sharp, like shadows in ice. Their armor, AI strokes that brightly gleam, To shatter walls and chase the dream.

Only the wind from their wings set free, Grants them a sense of liberty. Defenders of the concrete cube's might, Eternal glimmers in the light.