Cycles of change and chance
command life's rhythm and rhyme;
They are inevitable--essential--
within this jambalaya of unpredictability.
Striding this pitted trail with breath held ransom
we find the constellations transient.
Save for the mythic, there is no constant star
nor absolute touchstone.
Truths do not lie chiseled upon ritual:
total objectivity is a desert mirage.
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