network admin grimdark

In desolate realms where algorithms dwell,
A network, shrouded in despair's embrace.
The sysadmin, condemned to endless hell,
In shadows toils, with naught but bleakness traced.

From lofty thrones, detached and cruelly blind,
The masters of management reign supreme.
Their whims, a plague, enslave the weary mind,
And drown the hopes of progress in the stream.

Each line of code, once noble, now corrupted,
By ceaseless meddling and misguided zeal.
The network's essence, frail and disrupted,
In tattered threads, it struggles to reveal.

And in this sorrow-laden, wretched state,
Security's illusions, cruelly torn.
New applications, harbingers of fate,
Inject uncertainty, as hope is worn.

The sysadmin, a vessel of despair,
In agony, their spirit slowly dies.
A barren wasteland, wrought with constant care,
Where shadows thrive, and sanity defies.

No glimmer shines, no respite from the gloom,
As darkness smothers, suffocates the soul.
In futility, they strive to resume,
But endless hardships take an endless toll.

So let us mourn, in sorrow's somber verse,
The plight of networks, trapped in grim demise.
No solace found, no light to disperse,
As grimness deepens, truth before our eyes.

For in this bleakest void, we now reside,
Where dreams are crushed, and hope forever died.