05/02/2024
In the paradox of self, I am both the sculptor and the clay
I mold myself from the raw clay of existence,
A sculptor in the studio of life's persistence,
Yet in the paradox, the clay shapes me too,
An intricate dance of creation, the essence of the true.
The chisel of experience carves my form,
Yet I hold the tools in this transformative storm,
A collaboration with destiny, an artful play,
In the paradox of self, both sculptor and clay.
Through trials and triumphs, I shape and mold,
Yet the clay whispers secrets, stories untold,
A symbiotic dance in the cosmic display,
In the paradox of self, I am both the clay and the clay's say.
