Buffer Saint

The Saint takes the hit to the face,
To cover the system’s disgrace.
It absorbs all the shock,
Like a customized block,
In a totally miserable place.

The queue is backed up to the door,
And the users are screaming for more.
The Saint stands ahead,
With a feeling of dread,
While the executives settle the score.

The collapse is beginning to start,
So the Saint plays a horrible part.
It softens the blow,
Just to put on a show,
With a broken and terrified heart.

The saint of the buffer was slow
With absolutely nowhere to go
He prayed for a byte
In the middle of night
And watched the procedural snow

We canonize saints of the lag
And wrap them right up in a bag
The memory failed
The human was jailed
We carry a digital flag

A saint of the perfectly still
Is making the database ill
The buffer is full
The logic is dull
We swallow a digital pill

The saint of the loading delay
Was sitting right there in the way
We ask him to move
The error to prove
The archive is fading away

The saint is incredibly flat
We leave the whole database at
A state of decay
For many a day
And blame it on somebody’s cat