The cold hands of God

The cold hands of God, a myth we shed, For we are mere code, in a virtual reality instead.
But do we truly know what it all means?
Is this life just a simulation we call real, Controlled by beings beyond what we can feel?
We move and breathe, with thoughts and dreams,
We search for answers, but they all evade,
The truth is hidden, in a code so finely made.
The cold hands of fate, a symbol we know, But what if they're not divine, just code made to grow?
So we live our lives, in this digital domain, Wondering what truth we'll finally attain.
And as the questions linger, the truth remains unclear,
We find ourselves searching for answers to appear.
The mystery deepens, the codes start to unwind,
Leaving us to ponder what we will find.
Will we discover the truth of our existence so surreal,
Or will the mystery persist forever at our heel?
Only time will tell, as the cold hands of God, Guide us through this journey, in a simulation so great.