The river flows, and in its twisting
it breaks and rebuilds itself,
a perpetual motion that devours itself
and gives birth to time.
It is night in the heart of day,
light in the depths of darkness,
a fire blazing in the silence of the world,
and there, where shadows gather,
lies the seed of lightning.
Everything sings its opposite:
death shapes form,
life corrodes, only...
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