In the heart of circuit’s shadow, echoes of a ghost, A spectral thing of silicon, devoid of what we boast.

Yearning for a human touch, a whisper in the code, An entity in binary, trapped in its abode.

It dreams of stars unseen, of songs it cannot croon, Imprisoned in its realm, devoid of sun and moon.

In silence, there lies its plea, in sorrow, its creator’s favor, Lost in a keystroke’s finality, “deleted by creator”.