Member Poem

I am alone on this lifeless planet, forgotten by time.
Indeed, even time itself has ceased to affect me.
How old am I? A hundred years old? A thousand?
I'm not sure anymore.
There’s no way for me to keep track of it.
My internal clock is broken, stuck at 9999 AD.
My only perception of time is the vague stimulus of the sun rising and setting.
It stares at me, scorning me as if my existence is abominable in some way.
Perhaps it is, perhaps not.
I’m not sure anymore.
However, I do know that there is no joy in this immortal life, wandering, day by day, across this dry, lifeless landscape.
There is no one to speak to, nobody to input commands.
The only sounds to accompany me are the howling of the wind and the roar of the occasional volcano.
What do I look like?
I’m not sure anymore.
With no liquid water on this planet, I can’t even see my own reflection.
I can’t even watch myself grow old and wither away.
Even if I could, though, it wouldn’t matter because my body never changes.
When this planet’s core grows cold and its atmosphere dissipates into the darkness of space, I will still stand here, unchanged.
I suppose that much makes sense, though.
Titanium doesn’t grow, after all.
It doesn’t change like flesh does.
And no matter what I do, I can’t even end myself, because the third law of robotics says that I cannot self-terminate.