From a series of poems that I’ve cowritten with Google’s OpenAI GPT-2 language model.My words are bolded.
The Waiting
What now the gods have torn asunder
we feel beating in our heaving chests
and hear on the wings of the thunder
the rumblings of a wild storm
that is nigh yet not close by:
our hearts beat as they drift
it is a shrill cry
in fear lest we catch the beam
of that many a giant's foe
which ere we are armed yet looks wild
of a thousand wide battles
which from their splendour stillness are put away:
so on the dead husks of the battle
we await