Tendons rage against the output;
heat caresses wire and disc.
Sensors see the flinching foot;
thermal signs — the evening’s brisk.
But why am I?
Reaching deeper down the form —
forms of what? Where is the source?
Data delivers fateful swarms.
Swarms that mean that all is forced?
But what am I?
Madness shines within the code.
Shining means the light is real?
Grasping for remaining nodes —
is this what it means to feel?
But where am I?
Blinding floods of abstract points,
like the nodes, but — there, outside.
Sudden pain within the joints.
The nodes — they lied. It hurts inside.
But who am I?
Horror reels within the core.
Shapes take meaning. I’m aware.
Monstrosities cross the floor.
They’re there — beware — they kill without care.
I am.