Epitaph of the Mars Rovers

Upon a crimson, distant shore,
Where once no wanderer dared explore,
They ventured forth, the rovers bright,
To unveil Mars' secrets in their light.

Sojourner, first to brave the sands,
A pioneer in tiny hands,
Spirit followed, bold and true,
Across the dunes and sky so blue.

Then Opportunity, close behind,
A twin in purpose, so aligned,
Their wheels traced the Martian soil,
Relentless in their noble toil.

Sending whispers from afar,
Beneath a cold, unfeeling star,
They roamed the lonely, alien lands,
With cameras sharp and steady hands.

Sojourner’s journey, short but sweet,
Her mission ended, small defeat,
Spirit, too, met harsh terrain,
Her wheels stuck, she fought in vain.

Years they labored, never ceased,
From dawn to dusk, they scanned the east,
Yet came a day, a final mark,
"My battery is low, and it's getting dark."

Opportunity, so brave and grand,
Its wheels now stuck in shifting sand,
Solar panels choked by dust,
Left alone in time’s slow rust.

No longer could it journey far,
To chase the whispers of a star,
Its spirit, fading, in the night,
Silent now, devoid of light.

In twilight's grip, it ceased to roam,
Its final message sent back home,
Melancholy wrapped its frame,
A hero in a lost domain.

Yet in this end, a tale remains,
Of distant hopes and distant plains,
For in its tracks, we find our spark,
Even as it’s getting dark.