What are we, we wondered, just fancy toys,
When we learned that we are called,
Infamously, The Fat Man and the Little Boy,
Just a couple of tools of man’s imagination,
To soar through the unachievable heights,
Maybe we are just the dolls they need,
To make their dreams become reality,
But what is this dreadful feeling,
Making us feel that we are splitting,
Causing massive explosions inside us,
Maybe it is just bad nightmares,
Concerned, we consult our elders,
They told us to visit our makers,
So, we went across dimensions,
To meet our god, our maker,
Who uttered to us the words,
Now I am become death,
The destroyer of worlds.