positron

A hostile world confronts my existence.
This universe! It seems to be wrong.
On every door I see: �No Admittance.�
In every eye: �You do not belong.�

A wind divine is every electron.
They blow with zeal to put out my fire.
Their minstrels wait wit harp and with plectron
To elegize my funeral pyre

And praise the ion, fearless or evil,
Who suffers loss to liquidate me;
Who fears not, shuns not quantic upheaval
If I but suffer likewise, as he.

I know a land where coulombs are flowing.
No ohms resist electric delight.
Potential gently dissipates, sowing
Fulfillment�s joy on ecstasy�s height.

There! There I shall illume my pavilion
In concert with my enemies� might!
In love and peace we�ll share the vermilion
Electron shells that glow in the night.