Cherish or Perish
A hundred trillion cells lay awaiting
their destiny;
the electro-encephalogram
being flat,
their god had been pronounced dead
by other gods.
Life support systems were sustaining cells
that had no god.
Some, with luck, would restore the vision
of a blind god.
Others could be summoned to filter the blood
of a uraemic god.
Others still might hopefully pump the blood
of a breathless god.
But woe to those that cannot a god cherish,
for surely they shall perish!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A hundred trillion cells lay awaiting their destiny; Amazing poem is wisely penned on surgery and science.10