At the edge of time, the clocks stood still,
As whispers grew of looming ill.
A bug born deep in lines once tight,
Prepared to strike at midnight’s light.
Two digits marked the march of years,
Now stirred the world with rising fears.
Would planes fall down, would banks erase,
The fragile data we embrace?
Coders toiled with weary eyes,
In server rooms where silence lies.
With every patch and tested line,
They held the world past ‘99.
The bells rang in two thousand’s day,
And darkness did not seize the way.
What could have been, was held at bay—
A ghost in code kept far away.