BORG'S TALE (metaphor shop 2 assignment with 3rd assignment added)

I am number ninety three
named for my gestation vat
where I first came to be
and then was decanted stat!

A tube was then run down my nose
a direct route for all nutrients
to my stomach tasteless fluid flows.
I know no taste, I know no scent.

At two cycles they replaced one eye
with a telephoto infra red lens.
I guess it hurt, I didn't cry.
Emotions deemed the worst of sins.

Through the years I have gained many things
exoskeletons on legs and arms
a new ear which hears when photons sing
warning me of lasers' harms.

Sometimes our ship encounters "men".
They fight and scream when we arrive
then they contort and wail when
they realize they won't survive.

But we always let the young ones live
and turn them into more like us
half machines without love to give.
I've never understood the fuss.

Now we've dock with your colony ship
and taken casualties storming it
occasionally on blood and gore I slip.
I see my arm's taken a hit.

What is that I see in children's eyes
when, at last, they're stood in single file?
What is fear, hate, despair,surprise?
Resistance is futile.
................
But lately Something has occurred
I find that I might not be stone
for the last time we incurred
I came upon a girl alone.

I felt a ....something....in my chest
as she cried and loudly screamed
while I did what programing deemed best.
that night for the first time..I "dreamed".

My mind went to another place
where there never had been Borg like me
where even I could be embraced
where even I could just...be?

And other made me feel fulfilled
like a program was completed
and I did what My heart willed
and smiles and laughter were both greeted.

Doubts assail me like wasps and bees
in my waking moments now.
I wish to love if so I pleased.
But who is there to show me how???