A just read book, an unfinished essay,

a myriad of meaningless symbols,

a pen

half-filled with ink,

or perhaps as says the cliche,

half empty as well;

a can of coke,

a seedy plate with remnants of my meal

lying lonely by the table for eleven days or more...

ideologies, rhapsodies, theories

ideas and revelations

.......

a thesis to be produced.

A poor student chasing a paper

with patience and with strife;

naively and ardently,

expecting

or craving

that the knowledge preserved in  books, 

perused over the pages,

would answer the unknown riddles

and solve the puzzles of life.

A single point --one more

- producing a line in unison-

others combine 

and shapes are created of complex forms,

filling the space and defining emptiness,

providing knowledge with a certain definitiveness,

creating a logical world,

charms and enchantments reduced.

The answer appears  translucent,

as the shapes possess the holes

that appeared bizarre and fuzzy

and the world becomes more prosaic overall.

Lies, perhaps buried in lies,

the validity of the

being

of the two innocent points,

and the concepts which with them shine..

the axioms that can't be proved.

Yet  needs and desires fulfilled

the points may stay in peace.

A skeptic cannot exist-

asking why we survive

diminishes our urge to live -

a moronic paradox

programmed  by evolution,

or perhaps by  mother nature

into our own equations.

Life must indeed go on,

and we write in black and white

the secrets  we have learnt.