Aye,
Infinite self-reflection.
Hallowed Deconstruction of The Self.
A thousand mirrors,
Inwards –
Scoured by logic.
Left fallow across the rocks.
Culling Rituals.
Love.
Life.
Laughter.
There is no weaving,
No carved path.
Merely raw experiences,
Given time,
And space,
To grow.
Evolution.
