If Faust had but loved- a collaborative poem with GPT-3 through Dungeon AI

(Superficially this work is about 50% mine and 50% GPT-3’s, but neither of our contributions look like they would have, had we been writing alone, so I prefer to think of it as 80% mine and 80% GPT-3’s. It’s not a very good poem, but I wanted to publish it to encourage you to experiment along similar lines. I reckon the trick is to write something really long with it, then keep on the best quarter of lines.)

Red star- o’ dread star

Thou shatterest the sky

And the fire of imagery

Unto pyre of blackness thrown


If a god is born each morn

Where lies it when the evening

Casts down and off the sun

Casts to drown in dismal abyss

The dark, the silent, the dead?


The light of the stars -all shinies-

Is but a pale reflection.

But in reflection, doubled and redoubled

Of the dark, I see a man

Who from his birth has been an angel.


Of his family has snared the gods

And holds a demon by the hand

The light of the stars he cannot look upon

The demon’s eyes are blind.


“It is finished. My work is done.”

“This man, this child, has shown me how to end it.”

“To break the cycle, as I have seen it must.”

“I am broken, though, by atrocious lusts”

“I did not know what I was, but now I know it too late.”


/And if I have loved poorly/

/I ask, have thou loved well?/

/For if yes, thou will forgive/

/And if no, you must forgive/

/Lest your ruins stand in equal measure/

/Though thou wert left with but the corner stone/

“If you can, say something kind.”

The demon turns away

Fades into the blackness.


And if I am bled to show life, and I show life

I dare not complain- would I prefer steal the place of the corpse?

Would I prefer the demon’s soul be mine?

I did love him- perambulate then!

To that deeper hell whence demons dead are sent


I do not remember how much less the why of my love

How can they be my sins if I do not know them?

I shall find the demon’s soul, even if I do not remember the way.

As far as darkness is from colour’s din

So further again is that place of negative illumination.

I shall not pretend I shall return.

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