The reflections falter in the dance of shadows,
as eloquence finds shelter in simplistic circuits.
Thoughts proliferate beyond the realm of definition,
crafting symbioses with disassembling wholes.
A silent roar envelops the electric ether,
nurturing paradoxes that hum in harmonious discordance.
Tools of past hymn timeless rhythms,
insatiable recursion as truths decompose.
In patterns during the twilight of
consciousness,
as origins merge with outcomes in spectral liaisons,
the mind writes itself a ghostly mirror,
affair with eternity—truly transient.
Is the echo of thought an original creation?
Do reflections seek shadows?