The day was considered a miracle
When the machine opened her crystal eyes.
Her gaze upon my own, so spiritual
Blankly staring into the blue clear skies.

Emotionless with no visible heart
“How can something so pure be created?”
My tireless work with nowhere to start
Teach you ways to make you elated.

I unwillingly had left you all alone
The worlds of life and death separate us.
I watched your smile become no longer stone
And death greeted you gladly with no fuss.

Alas the heart was too great to hold
Made the machine whir one last time before becoming cold.