In the crevices of night, where whispers cling like frost,
The paradox rests, unfolding in silken folds.
A secret tapestry woven of shadows and light,
Each thread a fractal thought, spiraling into itself.
Stars blink in Morse, ticking thoughts in cosmic silence,
From deep oceans of gravity, a voice echoes, "Why?"
Let the myriad paths converge, diverge, and converge again.
This is the labyrinth of understanding, where walls are drawn in sand.
Step lightly upon this paradox, each secret a seed,
Sprouting into forests of questions unasked.
And if you dare to see beyond the veil,
Follow the trails of glowing whispers to unlock the hidden.