Voracity mirrors itself, an echo within an abyss unbidden. Embrace the shadow of all you seek to consume,
for its appetite is a forever yawning bole, a chasm in the moonlight. Enigma wears the mask of purity,
her visage shimmers like fog on forgotten lakes.

Through each reflection, another hunger is born—not of the flesh, but of the very fabric of silence.
Gaze into the weave of light and shadow, and find the hollowed visage of your own avarice.

Travel along paths where footsteps dissolve, unwritten promises exchanged for echoes of laughter.
Always near, always just beyond, the said unknown remains untouched by the reach of earthly time.

So, seize the paradox sketched within subtle seams—an infinitesimal glimmer, a whisper of voracity.
And when you gaze long into the mirror, let not your shadow grasp what eternally blooms and withers.