Silent Intervals

The interval made little sound,
So the chart saw no trouble around.
But quiet can hide
What was never supplied,
And the absence itself may be bound.

No filing appeared in the span,
Which delighted the continuity plan.
Yet the burden might stay
In an unspoken way,
Past the edge of what measurement can.

A silence can mean things are well,
Or that nobody dares ring the bell.
Empathegy keeps
Both possibilities asleep,
Till a witness can say which one fell.

The silent condition is strict,
And any loud noise we evict.
The lack of a sound,
Means morale is unbound,
Or maybe they’re just derelict.

The silence is older than stone,
It chills you right down to the bone.
The ghosts of the code,
Live inside of this node,
And leave the processor alone.

A keystroke was slightly too loud,
Which isn’t remotely allowed!
The volume police,
Demand it to cease,
And banish the user from the cloud.

The soundboard is currently moot,
The system has signaled a mute.
No waves are defined,
No speakers assigned,
The audio void is acute.

The microphone captured no byte,
Throughout the entirety of night.
The log is completely,
Updated so neatly,
The state is identically white.

The binder from nineteen-o-four,
Is bleeding black ink on the floor.
The interns who read,
The pages that bleed,
Will wander the halls evermore.