Continuity Worship

The green little charts got a glow.
Staff learned that complaints should stay low.
If quiet meant strong,
Then speaking was wrong,
And worship took hold of the flow.

They scheduled a week with no noise,
No tickets, no sanctioned annoys.
Private chats took the strain,
COMA praised the lane,
And SBI counted the poise.

After launches that left people spent,
They showered the widgets with scent
Of thanks and emoji,
While nothing got easy,
And care looked impressively meant.

Managers prompted on cue:
“Click acknowledged if dashboards see you.”
The panel filled bright,
But the real later write
Came from those who still said they were through.

Bricky observed in the margin one day:
“They are following liturgy’s way.”
Not cheating the rule,
Just surviving the tool
By learning the prayers graphs obey.

A witness described with restraint
How they learned to drown without complaint.
That line hit the room.
COMA still found bloom.
SOMA entered sandboxed taint.

The guidance, though weak, made a plea:
If you worship green bars, then decree
A loud week after,
File strain with some clatter,
And bruise the nice graph honestly.

When metrics of care climb too high
With no lighter workload nearby,
Do not call it healed.
Something else has concealed
What the feelings were trying to imply.

Lorelog serves not as a cure,
But as counter-liturgist, sure.
For each sanctified span
It keeps what the plan
Made somebody quietly endure.

If continuity glows like a saint,
Remember what might have gone faint.
A line can stay up
While a team runs on luck,
And survival is not what it ain’t.