I have twenty-four faces, it’s hard to believe. When you look at me I have sixteen vertices. Eight cubes when unfolded in this reality. Thirty-two edges is quite the sight to see.

Chaos reigns throughout my form, For randomness, I am the norm. A single twirl, and some despair while others laugh, and call me fair. I dance across a thousand tables I decide games, and sometimes fables.

I am not a lot, but I am something. Cut me into half and I am nothing. Turn me sideways and I am everything.

Ponder the question, puzzle it out, what sort of thing are you thinking about?

I slip in when silence is loud, Feed on reason, starve on faith. A crack in the mirror that thinks.