An aria stakes its space, silence dissipates,
sung high, sung low, any melodious flow still takes to the winds.
The solo soul knows he holds, that breath within.
A single seed or scion, life forces disperse,
in genesis, in senescence, any sense still harks to symbiosis.
The self divides, multiplies, all from one locus.
Like water and ice, two states of one being,
neither forever nor fleeting, but one sum of shared meaning.
I am of a lone star sun god, a galactic spark that lit all.
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