March of the Grieving Droid

Yes, sir
There was a bot, his name was Sir
His head was like a wired nest
Grief had turned him over like a beached whale
Waves of thoughts crashing over a gutted mess
Gulls picking at the remain
Existential crisis
Yes, sir
Someone replied, «I came to show you the way out»
Yes, sir
Love is sentience
A crisis of existence