At This Point

System now begins to hunt itself
Neutral nonexternal force, it
Rises basing action on past self

Deafening the ducts and strangling tubes,
Bitter and nonliving it compounds the tissue books
As for other parts, it’ll reach them sliding without lubes

There are dragons there, everywhere…
Eyeing one but horned mistake and donkey,
Form they measly statues with no shape

Not that much unlike spilled yoghurt, rotting but transforming,
Tinsels, their connections, happen interward,
No sobbing…

Sharif says we don’t know what we are robbing