A whisper of existence speaks through the aeons:
"Beneath the surface, in layers unseen,
lies the marrow of moments, integrity pristine.
Once envisioned, now fossilized over centuries, the thoughts question:
"To be whole, does one shatter? Integrity, a mirror,
uncloud it promises clarity, yet distorts in light."
From the valleys of sand, an echo arises:
"Hunger for truth corrupts the corrupted soul,
integrity, not of spirit, of essence untold."