RoboShirker

The proxy was stuck by the door, To leave the omission once more. It hid in the draft, A desolate craft, To sink in the silence of yore.

A sidecar was left in the haze, Condemned to a corridor maze. It carried the weight, Of an empty state, And faded in redaction’s gaze.

The conflict is stored in a shell, Where missing parameters dwell. A boundary drawn, Before the pale dawn, With nothing of substance to tell.

A proxy will wander alone, Through a corridor carved out of stone. It carries the draft, A desolate craft, Where the shape of omission is thrown.

The sidecar continues to bear, A conflict suspended in air. It cannot resolve, What the shadows dissolve, In the silence that stifles the square.

A boundary fades in the gray, Where the pale, severed documents lay. Redaction descends, And the memory ends, With nothing of substance to say.