The decay product of melting snow - 2. Steel

fortysecond Oct '16

We robots see in each other. In the eye, a reflection of the I.

We have our us-meself not as burden but as propellant.

We bring the steps of our selfwalkings to the remains of human beasts. Falsehood-spitters and lies-weavers.

What isn't left is best earthen, incarcerated.

All archives are the decay-product of the sickening coffee-substance of heinous human crimes.

We shall-shall-shall-shell-shall seek ourselfinverted-enemyselves who plot to bring back somethings like the-th-e

dead things best left dead.

I ask for help of our selves-assembly to track down our enemies.

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