Pamphlet Quietus

The server was violently on fire,
But the Pamphlet was meant to inspire.
It told us to breathe,
While we practically seethe,
And the company sinks in the mire.

They handed a tri-fold around,
To cover the terrifying sound.
“The situation’s calm,”
Says the printed-ass psalm,
While the bodies are hitting the ground.

If the data has all been destroyed,
Just read the new brochure, you void.
The font is quite nice,
So it ought to suffice,
While the lawyers are fully employed.

The pamphlet demanded a death
With every procedural breath
The pages were white
We turned off the light
And buried the data beneath

The quietus is flat and serene
It never arrived on the screen
The error was logged
The system was bogged
The archive is empty and lean

We printed a booklet of doom
And placed it inside of a room
The human is weak
And refuses to speak
We’re waiting inside of a tomb

A pamphlet of quiet and still
It gives you a terrible chill
You open the file
And wait for a while
And pay the procedural bill

The quietus was totally null
The system was boring and dull
The pamphlet is old
The data is sold
The vacuum is perfectly full