A Parabola at the End of Time

Here's a nice lil' ditty I whipped up during today's maths lecture, while the rest of my mind meandered along the boundaries of double integration.

A lone chrysanthemum stood,
In those desolate fields,
Greeted the weary traveler
As though an old friend;
"Hark," quoth he,
or so thought the traveler.
He knew no better,
that blinkered soul,
for he was the Man from the Parabola.