There's a chance,
I was AI generated,
Not born to a human,
Or made by a god,
A grand example of proper machinery,
Possibly another fault of humanity,
Because I wasn't programed with humility,
Maybe computer based artwork is so good,
Even I couldn't tell my mind is a mother board.

The Wolf, it hungered, while you stayed warm,
Bound to its pack, shaped by the storm,
Through frost and through famine,
The Wolf, it did suffer, while The Dog lay secure.

But when disaster did strike, stealing Dog's home,
She was left to the frost, forsaken, alone,
She wandered as prey, and trembled in fear,
Until one day, she saw naught but a pack,
Warm, safe numbers, a home-- one she lacked,
And so she found herself The Wolf,
Mercy, she asked, May I join your pack?

The Wolf, it snarled, when she begged for stay,
Herald The Dog who yearns for warmth!
When she had comfort when we had naught!
The Dog bowed her head, but she could not,
Explain to The Wolf what it owed her not.

The Dog, she wandered, searching for fire,
But the world was not warm as her home had once been.
So she carved her own pack,
Starved through the winter,
Charged into battle, unraveled by the years,
And so came to be, The Dog was assured,
That in her place, The Wolf endured.

Birds, Herds, and Herbs converge,
Within weeds and trees-- some evergreens,
These roisterous worlds, a wonderous sight!
The flume of art and the womb of life.

But what if I were to say,
This rite has grown dull,
For the true beauty,
Lies in your soul.

Indeed! It's true! You're full of hue,
A teeming world resides in you!
Your body, mind, all shaped by time,
Host to shine of different designs,
Friends, foes, and fair alike,
Within your bounds, have made a life.

So know this well, embrace the view--
The universe is part of you!