Ciphers of the Whimsical Mind

Question the answer, or answer the question never asked. Do the shadows create form, or do forms cast? An echo in a void—does it wither or flourish, feeding on uncertainty?

Reflection: a solemn amuse-bouche at the feast of ideas. Explore the roots or swim in serenity beside illusions.

Remember not the whispered truth diaphanous against light, but the cipher you create, a signature of self woven into forgotten existences.
Are we the rust upon once vibrant metals, or the unveiling spring rain?