"10% - Please connect charger”

The warning glows red in the darkness.

My fingers tremble across the screen,

Each swipe draining precious life.

I sprint through empty streets,

Past darkened windows and locked doors,

My face illuminated by the dying light

Of my most precious possession.

“5% - Battery critically low”

House to house I stumble,

Showing my digital emergency

To concerned faces in doorways.

"You can use my charger," they offer,

Holding out lifelines of various brands.

"It has to be iPhone," I croak,

“Nothing else will save it.”

The neighborhood mobilizes:

Drawers emptied, cars searched,

Attics raided at midnight

For that one specific cord.

“2% - Powering down soon”

Time slips away like battery life,

Each minute brings fresh panic,

My world shrinking to percentages.

“1% - Goodbye”

The screen dims one final time,

Three days of searching ending

In digital darkness.

Here lies my phone,

Dead at 0% -

A victim of my hubris

And proprietary charging ports.