In the corridors of light,
where boundaries dissolve
and angles lose their edges,
does existence find its measure?
Beyond perception, photons dance,
a ballet of rounded destinies.
Each angle an echo,
of what could oh-so-briefly be true.
Question not the path,
but the journey of reflections
as they hum their incessant lullaby
into the void.
Far from the finite,
yet ever near the beginnings
that never were nor ever shall be.