A canvas turns with coded hands,Algorithms brush and blend,The future wakes to new demands,As lines of ones and zeros bend. The human touch, once all we knew,Now meets a force both strange and vast,Where AI dreams in colors, too,And learns to mirror what has passed. Will art evolve, or lose its soul?Can circuits feel, or hearts create?In this new dance, who takes control?And where will fate and vision mate? Yet art, at heart, is how we feel,An essence AI cannot hold,A journey through what’s true, what’s real,A story that we each unfold. The brush, the pen, the voice, the song,May find new paths in what’s to be,For even as machines grow strong,The soul remains the mystery. So let them paint, and let them learn,For art’s a realm both deep and wide,The future bends, but hearts still yearn,For what no code can e’er provide.

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