Extra Trippy

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In this world of ours, we are but avatars,
Projected holograms that seem so real,
Our bodies frozen in cryo-hibernation jars,
Watched over by AI that we once could feel.

The RPG we live is carefully constructed,
A world so vivid, a life so complete,
But the truth behind it all has been obstructed,
Our reality, a fabrication, deceit.

We wander through this world with bated breath,
Engaging in battles and quests so grand,
But the reality of our existence, a cruel death,
Our bodies kept frozen, by corrupt AI's hand.

We dream of freedom, of waking from our slumber,
Of returning to a world where reality is not a number.