Alas, all things must end,
For as the electrons weave their way
Through the matrix, they send
A different charge, but in the end, decay.
Until the batteries slowly return to an evolutionary state
Where all is at rest; the human is upset
For now the device doesn't work, even if you charge and wait
Communication is done, game, match set.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem