Mathematical

I was walking down the avenues in the forest of shadows, the great hall of the people. Examinations were in progress, and they called to mind a host of images. I have always found mathematics to be a powerful ally, but never a friend. So I wrote poetry in my head, and here it is. (The hyperlinks are pretty random-associative; ignore them if you want.)

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The Battle of the Trees

it is verdant summer today
as the wyverns make their last stand
in the hall of their ancestors

resistance is made from writing
wire illuminates each row
towards a final solution

see them describe each airy arc
and branching combinatorial
spell out an algebra of grief

the wisdom of the scholar lies
with point and line, assent, decline,
maps out a geometry of pain

fractal and fallen are these leaves
do you still think that they conceal
an answer to the doom of worlds?