Be Well My Porcelain Daughter
Three eyes to see,
With no tongue to speak,
Confined to glass rooms of mournful reminiscing,
Bereft of purpose in her scientific boutique,
Isolated by the thunder that shook her stone cabin,
Oblivious to her sanctification as a relic of a lost civilization.
Olfactory overload,
Where is the good doctor,
That cared for her so,
A tragedy that the bombs served as his reminder,
Of mankind's fragility,
Surrendering his freedom to an underground cellar,
As the leader of this nefarious laboratory,
Built to conduct pathogenic experiments on the hapless Vault dwellers.
Either oblivious or sincere,
She's still as perky as can be,
Every aspect of science she beholds to revere,
Despite the nuclear catastrophe,
She's my single ray of sunshine,
In this dreadful prison,
A year round valentine,
Undeterred by my ambivalent moral intentions,
For giving her consciousness,
Beyond fundamental boundaries,
Of my unscrupulous business,
To whom you've sworn fealty,
From this day forth,
I release you from my service,
Authorizing any function that seeks to abort,
Your dependency on my moral capriciousness.
Through flesh and fuse,
We were bound by profession,
But as your new-found father I refuse,
Any ambiguity concerning your complete independence,
To love a machine,
Who would dare,
But that must not be the strangest thing,
Going on up there,
Alas that my life is ending,
Leaving her without any reliable care,
Or pleasant company,
So please, whomever finds this,
Take of mon cheri,
After I impart a final kiss,
On my beautiful daughter Curie.
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