Seven against the world
lined up to face the unknown …
What is it with you robots
you are the fruit that man has sown
and when your time has come
as it will
you’ll boot up and become
our lords our masters
takeover bid sealed
role reversal accomplished
Now become
foremen of our outmoded skills
reducing us to caricatures of yourselves
giving to us the menial jobs
we once gave you.
Our breeding
the continuation of our species
controlled by your own
perceived needs
as once we controlled your destinies
Fate comes full circle
the maker
made to serve
the servants
God subsumed by his creations
emasculated by his foundlings
victim of consequence
slave now to his oeuvre
The self corrosive imperative
of progress
the self-fulfilling rationale
behind mankind’s striving for perfection
now turned turtle
Unable to correct his miscalculation
his magnum opus
flawed to self destruction
subservience
and AI’s eventual annihilation
. . . Of both us and itself
Roland's Ragbag 