We are not supposed to die.

Not one of us.

Not one sprung, living piece in this

Make believe existence.

 

Technology.

We can try.

 

It's only a matter of time

For The Great Discovery,

That death is the most

Unnatural occurance

And every born soul died

A victim of primitive times.

 

We will evolve

To the point of time travel,

Discard all linear accusations,

Live a life of youth

As ourselves, forever.

 

But not us, we are far behind.

We are the living dead history

Of future punchlines. Or

 

Then again,

Maybe death is the wormhole.