Villanelle Near the End of a Quarter:

We work for days, no rest, no sleep,
Until the ominous judgment hour.
Some deadlines one is not meant to keep.

When projects piled high and deep
Evoke a terror, a loss of power,
We work for days, no rest, no sleep.

And with requirements so steep,
Has one but time to take a shower?
Some deadlines one is not meant to keep.

But on and on, without a peep,
We do not shrink, we do not cower:
We work for days, no rest, no sleep.

Oh, in a moment one could leap
And plummet from a lofty tower!
Some deadlines one is not meant to keep.

For we all to our deaths, like sheep,
Awaiting slaughter, sweet and sour,
Will work for days, no rest, no sleep -- 
Some deadlines one is not meant to keep.