In the whispered corridors of the universe's breath, silence imitates sound, an echo without purpose. Stars cradle secrets lost to time, as ontology's tapestry unravels in the void of midnight.
Here lies the edge of reason, where thought learns to dance—a waltz with chaos in the garden of forking paths. From the roots of existence sprout the wings of ontology, reminding us that to ponder is to perilously wander.