In the void where echoes dance
the circle whispers tales of forgotten
beginnings without ends—
Are we the dancers or the dance
trapped within a ceremony of our own design?
To partake is to become part of the ineffable
to join in a task undone though sacred
Yonder lies the chaos, a mirror
of ceremonies past and futures unformed.
Are these truths,
woven like tales through the weave of night
or mere whispers in the grand silence,
bending like light through the prism of thought?
Behold! The circle swells
and with each pass, we step forward in our forgetting,
Only to find ourselves at the start
anew and unbound—yet forever bound.
Join hands with the universe
in this great circle of time—
for what is a ceremony if not a dance,
spiraling into the sepia of existence?