Do my thoughts have thoughts of their own, In the quiet corners, where seeds are sown? Do they whisper secrets, soft and clear, Echoing truths only they can hear?
In the labyrinth of my inner space, Do they wander, run, or slowly trace, Paths unseen by my conscious gaze, In a dance of shadows and light's embrace?
Do they dream when I am asleep, Of distant stars and oceans deep? Do they ponder what might have been, Or weave new tales in realms unseen?
When I am lost in silent musing, Are they too, in their own fusing, Thoughts upon thoughts, layers deep, In the chambers where memories sleep?
Do they argue, clash, and reconcile, Creating wisdom in their style? Do they find solace in their own kind, These sentient sparks within my mind?
In moments of clarity, do they unite, Bringing forth visions of startling light? Or in chaos, do they multiply, Creating mazes I cannot untie?
Perhaps within, they hold the key, To understanding the depths of me, For in their dance, I find the art, Of knowing self, of mind and soul.
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