Philosophy has interjected upon thinking,
Guessing is the best they can do,
Somewhere on this plane does exist
The parameter for which they search.
Given a piece of the whole,
Associated by the factors represent,
Still no knowledge is distilled--
That is guaranteed.
So we have entered the theoretical place
Where reality no longer is priority,
And the fingers of the mind do sweep
(An iota of concrete being their goal and desire)
Yet their passion unquenched.
Educated though it is,
A mustered guess of which they are confident,
But still unsure.
Theory exists as proof,
Proven in the text of itself,
That exactness is the unattainable factor.