Proving Stuff:

If the black void
was filled with the same
solemn stars.

Or the tree which fell
in the forest
always made a sound.

And age, old age,
the lone companian
to four-eyed maths whizzes on
their rocking chairs.

For silent are heroes' sighs
to the applauding audience,
as they ride
into a sequel-less sunset.

Oh how empty
the life of one who has
nothing

left to prove.

-me

After months of contemplation I have decided to start studying.