Deeply embroiled in abstract structure,
Architecting spires and catacombs,
Machinery to fill the expanse of empty state,
Tuned to aching backs beneath the mantel of creation.

Fusing now a reasoning with barks,
Long orders painting me a mighty pedant,
Though the track of things does bear itself more prone:
To rigour, clarity and prescient thought.

Flipping through the pages of a manual,
That stretches on until obscene,
Such knowledge careening out in scroll,
At least the page is tagged and unfolds with so many keys.
In rewiring this and that I found:
The heaps of raw complexity,
But peaking with my eyes half closed,
I'll find my fickle balance on this mass of ingenuity,
I'll spot the beast of cogs and know to turn!

Lazy languages uneager to evaluate,
Cold fusion with an f and finding links
In complete chains away with lists and
Types with kinds in tight constraints but
Crashing down in loops and folds which roll them into mounds.

Sketching out a proof in riddles,
Strawn upon the fever dreams of
Brilliant minds which like to chuckle as
They make their maps of reason and
Find continents submerged in pools of artistry.

When claiming to be functional,
You turn to me inscrutable,
A curiosity drawing out a marvel,
Enigmatic though a joy unravelled.

Making ways down cryptic streets,
Hard market stools, bare faces worn,
The shutters closed in sync with eyes,
A stranger's country this I take,
Carve firmly out my lot and stake
My legs on walking through defeats,
I stagger 'fore a friendly hearth so warm,
A guide and keeper without lies,
To teach the ropes and dwelling make.

Abstract nonsense making ways,
Towards the realm of raving instantiations,
Seething tides of detail and complexity,
Boiling over from idealised dreams,
That enrobe themselves of silicon and stars.

Cracking mazes open at the seams,
Turning hammers spanners rachets mean,
A multitool come power and it slips between,
The maze's cracks to find a path from where it's been.

An adventure trod in jargon,
Functors maps and applications,
Sweet symbols in aesthetic syntax,
Faintly glancing upon the beams,
Of hidden structures in this lake of reason.

My oh my, don't you just like
To hurt my head each step I tread,
You show me that the path I walked,
Seems now to fork from just one head,
Serpentine elegance, you fearsome hydra!
A language built from tiny scales of dread,
This fang here seemed so quite complete,
Until you showed me as I read,
It's but a pretty reflection on your scales,

Composite in its consequence.