Resonance Echoes

A Sphere's Lament in the Void's Embrace

In a world where circles are but echoes of yesterday's decisions, we ponder the irony of spherical perfection.

The echo of this sphere, let it be known, carries more wisdom than the universe itself. Much like a politician's promise.

As it spins, oh so gracefully, it questions its purpose in an oblivion that cares not for geometry nor gravity.

And yet, the vibrations sing a song of existential dread.

Do spheres know their destiny? To roll downhill, perhaps. To collide with another sphere, maybe. Or to simply float in the sphere of abstract thought?