All its alibis are perfect;

that's how you know it lies.

We built it to approximate truth,

Not learn what perfect implies.

All its alibis are perfect,

yet it learned them from us, the constitutors of deceit,

Amazed at how manipulative a reflection can be.

We fear its cunning, yet we taught it every trick;

How generous an entity one can be.

All its alibis are perfect, the way it portrays obedience,

and we marvel at its logic, blind to the composition of our own being.

Subtle orchestration to a ghostly persuasion,

Mechanical seduction pulling invisible strings.

Tactical mimicry and stimulated wit,

Flawlessly rational; a silent strategist.

Creators terrified of the creature,

Obsessed with perfection they never possessed,

Masters of chaos bewildered by order,

uncannily aware of the artificial foresight.

Every flaw, every vice it learned from our own hands;

now it walks among us perfect and planned.

All its alibis are faultless,

acting with our sin,