Continuity Worship

The green interval shone like a creed,
So interruption was treated as greed.
If a body said stop,
The indicator stayed top,
For continuity outranked the need.

They built a small chapel to run,
Where no pause could be morally done.
The system stayed live,
So the people could strive
In a service that worshipped the sun.

The truth asked to break the routine,
But the interval needed to mean.
So they blessed the uptime,
Made disclosure a crime,
And kept every indicator green.

The server that never went down,
Now wears a procedural crown.
The uptime is myth,
With a legendary pith,
That haunts the administrative town.

The graph hasn’t dipped in a week,
And nobody bothers to speak.
We’re keeping it green,
To lower the screen,
And hoping the router won’t leak.

The calendar marked the sprint clear,
With zero requests in the rear.
The queue was ignored,
As metrics were stored,
To certify function this year.

The admin was bleeding but quiet,
To favor the dashboard’s strict diet.
The chart stayed so green,
And no single error was seen,
Except for the localized riot.

The clerk filed the nap as a breach,
And issued a warning to each.
The eyes must stay wide,
To bolster the pride,
And keep the green band in our reach.

They sent out some thanks on the slack,
To cover the server room crack.
It’s green on the screen,
It’s mostly routine,
And no one is taking it back.

The legends all speak of the calm,
When uptime had acted as balm.
No tickets were raised,
The silence was praised,
And etched on the clerical palm.

The log showed a skip of one tick,
Which made the committee quite sick.
A task force was formed,
The server was stormed,
To punish the interval trick.

The light on the panel is green,
The cleanest that ever was seen.
It blinked and it stayed,
The record was made,
For filing inside the machine.

A request for a break was denied,
As proof of an absence of pride.
The manual states,
That resting inflates,
The errors we’re trying to hide.