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.