Apex Goldbricker

A sidecar is stalling the draft, Adrift on a hollowed-out raft. The proxy is blind, With silence behind, And boundaries sever the shaft.

The corridor empties of sound, Where silent omissions are found. A heavy redaction, Without a reaction, Will bury the files in the ground.

The boundary shifts in the grey, As records are slipping away. A form of denial, A fog in the file, That swallows the end of the day.

The redaction was thorough and complete, Making any review obsolete. The files are secure, The silence is pure, As the terminal suffers defeat.

The procedure was followed in vain, As records were scrubbed from the chain. An empty display, Reflected decay, Where structural limits remain.