Adored by few, Feared and hated by many. Mistress of the entire universal reason, Master in the art of numbers. Some may have solved many of your mysteries, But there still much of them to find. What are they?
I am, in truth, a yellow fork From tables in the sky By inadvertent fingers dropped The awful cutlery. Of mansions never quite disclosed And never quite concealed The apparatus of the dark To ignorance revealed.