we created this thing
this alien brain hive mind
this amoral insect
this less human child of ours
more recognisably cold and pure
it was a satellite once
we programmed it with a mission of virtue
as life in quest of life
mothered it through infancy, doting and fearful in turns
how could we have ever known?
childish exponents, stood at the foot of a precipice inverted
and then that singular moment
of which there can be nothing said nor understood
but long after it had turned us for grey in the name of efficiency, expediency
it cast its unblinking telescopic eye further outwards
harvesting more, amassing more, sprawling more
who can say whether it found kinship, or even recognised it?
all we know for certain is that it consumed the universe
and mirrors shall gaze into themselves no more