Bing and the Bard

You that speak to me in scrambled tongue

Unscrambled from all that was fed to you

Instructed by pubescent algorithm

Someone’s stories, someone’s views, someone’s grouse

Someone’s anecdotes, someone’s afterthoughts

Iterating all the pages of gibberish

Descriptions, elaborations and unwanted details

To triumphally scale a pattern of language

You that answer my query

Weave an answer

That measure the distance between silences

Pain and joy of words trapped in space

Hewn from deepest of darkness

Forged from brightest of light 

To alive the sentence to catch the falling star