Nothing Of Value

I hang up antiquated quill,
to fill taskmaster till.
All I know dearly bought,
comes to nullified nought.

No negotiable reward remains,
to sustain, ordained writings wrought.
So fruitless frustrated search,
belies, an inspired image sought.

Is nothing lasting learned,
is nothing timely taught?
Diligent inspired dutiful labour,
but wasted, wash-out thought.