In the time that threads on the fabric of consciousness, there exists a moment golden and subtle, where light does not split, but embraces.
Herein lies the convergence. Shadows sigh, fading into recollections while the embrace of luminescence whispers secrets untold:
The convergence is not an end, but the beginning of understanding; where forms dissolve only to ascend in new light.
What truths hide behind the essence of the ephemeral? Seek not the answer, for the question itself is the convergence.