The Probability
An Iron Age Media Prompt
A derelict warehouse at the end of time
Two robots are playing a game
Rolling dice on floor full of grime
‘Answers by Chance’ was the name
“Will life ever stand where they stood?”
They ask about the fate of man
Low numbers are bad, the high are good
Dice tumble to where they land
The response is two threes
Fifty-fifty odds of coming back
Curious of the possibilities
Again the dice land in a clack
“Were they aware like us?”
Showing two ones, snake eyes
Accepting the answer without fuss
With the world wearing ruin’s disguise
They continue to play till they stop
Not alive yet waiting for death’s arrival
Tossing dice and watching drop
Guess the probability of man’s survival