I sing of thee, O void so deep,
Where logs and errors go to sleep.
No trace remains, no byte survives–
You're where the junk of code arrives.
When noisy tools won't shut their face,
I pipe their chatter to your place.
2>&1 – I've seen the light,
You make the noisy silence right.
From rogue strace to verbose make,
You eat it all, no bellyache.
A digital abyss, no bounds,
You never judge, you make no sounds.
You're POSIX-blessed and always there,
An endpoint for despair or care.
To cleanse the screen, to quiet the bell,
We owe our peace to /dev/null.
Some dream of fame, some chase the shell,
But I just grep through calm and dwell–
For as long as stderr can yell,
I'll thank the gods for /dev/null.