The secrets of nature present such delight
Whether it be how the sun rises or how fire ignites.
For physics will be dear in my heart,
Open to interpretation by the philosophers of deep thought.
Although I'm distraught, untaught-
To the greatest potential of understanding.
Seeing cosine, theta, lambda and beta is truly enlightening.
For beauty is nature, and nature is beauty,
And to mostly truth, as Keats implies.
There are no lies, but hidden to be discovered by the greatest minds.
Ginsberg was wrong; we are still here and alive-
Breathing to find answers for the rest of our lives.
For truth is ambiguous at times,
Merely in disguise.
Trying to find beauty with mathematics.
Derivatives and equations got me searchin' like an addict.
I need my drugs of truth!
I'll come at it,
Finding simplicity and harmony,
From the unusual to uncanny.
I might be half dead and alive
But I am on the mission
Of making the strange simple, purely quintessential.
Even if I have to be a cat in a box with probable living potential.
I'm the opposite of Schrödinger and Dirac.
I find beauty in things not clearly white and black.
But rather mixtures and arrays of colors,
Like that of a rainbow.
I look for the pot of gold
With optimism for the truth to unfold.