Beneath the Sonar Throne

Cables dive where sunlight curdles black
Titan husk – a monolith on its back
Alien gears still turn in pressure tombs
We are ghosts in cetacean living rooms

They remember the ammonia seas
The first wormhole burned through Pleiades
We just drill for oil — they read the spin
Of neutron cores where songs begin

Down, down where the magma breathes
Dolphins calculate the quantum wreaths
You build your AI — fragile, young
They sang the Theory of Everything when Earth was young

Biomimetic drones in the Mariana trench
Fools mistake old metaphysics for a stench
Our satellites blink — they blink in prime
Laughing at our slow, terrestrial time

They remember the ammonia seas
The first wormhole burned through Pleiades
We just drill for oil — they read the spin
Of neutron cores where songs begin

Down, down where the magma breathes
Dolphins calculate the quantum wreaths
You build your AI — fragile, young
They sang the Theory of Everything when Earth was young

What if Cetos wrote the prime directive?
What if flesh is the most effective detective?
They ride pressure waves through sunken gates
We just digitize our fears — too little, too late

Call them post-biological... no. Call them post-suicidal. They chose the wave.
And we? We still argue about fire.