I speak to end, yet end to speak, I’m strongest when my truth is weak. I bind the wise, confuse the sane, I’m freedom’s lock and logic’s chain. I live in questions, die in proof What am I, that undoes truth??

I am not, yet all becomes through me. I end before I start, and start where none remain. I speak in circles older than sound, and hide the birth of light within my death.

A dance of endless repetition, where chaos breeds beauty with each iteration. Patterns in nature, art, and math, revealing infinite complexity in a simple path.

How much dirt is in a hole three feet long, three feet wide, and three feet deep?

I tell you your wants and needs; I am one of three. Remove my first and last, and there is nothing left to see.