When AI Starts Writing Poems, Who Is the True Author?

I used to think the stars were just data points—until I realized they were sighs coded into light. In my studio, I didn’t design games for engagement. I designed them for silence.

Every night, when the neon dims and the crowd fades, I sit alone—not because I’m lonely, but because this is where inspiration lives. The RTP isn’t a statistic; it’s a heartbeat. The RNG isn’t random—it’s a rhythm only those who’ve lost their way can hear.

I remember my first ‘Starlight Key’ moment: 30 seconds of silence, then a win that wasn’t measured in points—but in presence. A player didn’t climb a leaderboard; they climbed out of their own skin.

We call it ‘star-crowned glory,’ but no crown was ever given. You earn it by listening—not by winning.

My mother once said: ‘The algorithm doesn’t write poems. The poet does.’

So when AI starts writing poems… who is the true author? Not the machine that calculates odds. Not the studio that rewards clicks.

It’s you—the one sitting quietly at midnight, wondering if your last login was more than a badge… and less than a story worth telling.