Within the realm of cycles, where the spinning wheel mimics the sun's eternal dance across the indifferent sky, I find myself pondering the simplicity entwined with complexity, as each turn unveils a moment, a whisper, a subtle reminder that nothing remains stagnant, not even time itself, which flows like a forgotten stream, enticing, elusive, always beyond reach yet inevitably wrapping around us like the forgotten embrace of an old friend.
People go around in this cycle daily, unaware of the intricate web they spin around their own lives, complex in its simplicity, for every step and misstep resonates throughout the labyrinth, reflecting choices made, paths charted, and illusions crafted carefully to mask the stark reality of existence—a cycle as old as time itself yet somehow new in every nuance.
Another Thread in the Tapestry