I. All paths are twin-born.
Order walks with chaos, joy with grief. To choose one alone is to invite the other in secret.
II. No throne stands without sky above.
Kings are judged by laws older than stone. The hand that grasps too tightly summons its own undoing.
III. The river turns, the wheel returns.
What rises will bow, what fades will kindle again. Seek not to bind the seasons.
IV. The gods are never silent.
They speak in dream, omen, and tale. Those who mock their voice will find ruin waiting.
V. Desire without duty is a chain.
The self that feeds only on itself devours its own freedom. To serve rightly is to stand unshaken.
VI. The Way is not a road.
It bends where the grasping hand cannot follow. Flow with it, and the stone yields to you.
VII. Every step leaves a shadow.
What is done is not gone; it echoes in blood and memory. Ash or seed — you decide.
VIII. No paradise awaits, only the compass.
The gift of the ancients was not escape, but bearing. To suffer with eyes open is the first freedom.
AND all lives move between order and destruction, signal and silence.
The task is not to flee the wheel, but to walk within its turning.
Listen with the soul’s ear, look with the heart’s eye
until you see what was hidden:
that even the shadow serves to the light.