We Live Inside A Hologram

In depths of space where branes collide, The truth is stretched and folded wide. A hologram, not quite a sham— But deeper still than who I am. Each flicker here, a distant gleam, Encoded on a cosmic screen. The walls of black holes hum and burn With secrets that we can't return. What seems to move, and breathe, and grow Is math behind a subtle show. The edge contains the boundless whole, A paradox that shapes the soul. Your breath, your thoughts, your trembling hand Are ripples in a shadow land. No center holds, no solid floor— We live on light, and nothing more. The universe? A whispered lie That sings we never truly die.