∑ilence

√−1 + √−1 = −2 · √−1
Two imaginaries meet in the night,
their sum not calm, but a quite sight.
Silence squared, yet silence denies—
a negative sound where silence collides.

What’s unreal can double, then bend,
not resolve, but intensify, descend.
Two quiet thoughts, imagined, concealed—
become a silence heavier, real.

2² = 4
A simple truth, no need to implore,
two squared is steady, always four.
No sound lingers, no doubts remain,
a constant rhythm, yet a quiet refrain.

Order holds where silence is found,
predictable steps, a steady ground.
Equations have no voice, yet never deceive—
a proof of calm we can always believe.

π ≈ 3.14
Irrational, endless, a circle’s refrain,
we round it to numbers, but never contain.
Infinity is silent, yet slips through the door—
the sound of something we can’t make score.

Some truths approximate, never exact,
like feelings that linger, refusing the fact.
No fraction can capture, no measure can bind,
the endless equation that lives in the mind.

e^{iπ} + 1 = 0
Five symbols meet, a perfect design,
e, i, π, one, and zero align.
Opposites dance in a single embrace,
contradictions resolved with infinite grace.

Imaginary turns, the circle complete,
negative whispers, yet beauty discreet.
From chaos to order, the proof softly shows—
a silence hidden where abstraction flows.

|−x| = x
The sign is erased, the burden undone,
a shadow reversed in the light of the sun.
What once was heavy, marked by decline,
becomes a neutral, a steady line.

Pain confronted, its edges made clear,
no longer a weight, no longer severe.
Taken in absolute, the truth will remain—
negatives are silenced, and balance sustains.

Δx > 0
A shift begins, though quiet, small,
a step that rises, not a fall.
The sign is clear, the slope inclined—
a gentle progress, slow, defined.

Change unfolds, not sudden, not fast,
yet forward it moves, a break from the past.
Each increment is silent, steady and true—
Δx > 0, the promise of new.

X → ∞
The line extends, it will not cease,
a boundless stretch, no point of peace.
Each step beyond, no end in sight—
a drift through longing, endless flight.

Infinity waits, a horizon untamed,
no closure offered, no limit named.
What grows without bound may overwhelm too—
x → ∞, the silent, endless pursuit.

∫₀¹ 1 dx = 1
A constant kept, a quiet span,
from zero to one, a measured plan.
No surge, no rush, just steady pace—
yet wholeness forms in that brief space.

Small acts endure, though simple, slight,
they gather to something complete, finite.
Presence sustained, though moments are few—
the sum of the constant is wholly true.

∑_{n=1}^{∞} 1/2ⁿ = 1
Half of a half, then half again,
fractions that dwindle, yet still remain.
Infinite pieces, each smaller in role,
together they gather, completing the whole.

Moments may falter, silent gestures be slight,
yet endless fragments can sum to right.
Partial love, partial words we share—
converge to a wholeness beyond compare.

1 + 1 = 10₂
In binary lands, the sum is surprise,
not two, but “10” before your eyes.
Systems shift, and truths rearrange—
even the simplest can suddenly change.

Two ones together don’t merely repeat,
they spark a creation, a pattern complete.
Not doubled alone, but transformed anew—
a silent language, a different view.

Imaginary thoughts, like numbers, arise—
unreal emotions beneath quiet skies.
Certainties anchor, what’s trusted remains,
yet infinite constants slip through the chains.

Contradictions shimmer, made beautiful, whole,
negatives softened, absolutes console.
Small changes gather, their slope defined,
increments, silent, yet progression aligned.

Infinite fragments converge to one,
partial moments together are done.
Two presences meet, not doubled but new—
a language of silence that speaks us through.

∑ilence is fullness, not empty air,
rules of emotion both strict and rare.
Even in quiet, the proof will transform—
two voices in stillness create a new form.

Silence, like math, is layered and deep,
with hidden equations it chooses to keep.
Structure and tension, a pattern concealed,
transforms mathematically what cannot be healed.

Fragments assemble, though fragile, though small,
together they rise, completing the all.
What seems like nothing, a pause in the air,
is proof of a wholeness already there.