In labyrinthine paths, we wander and roam,
Chasing mirages, forged by habit's subtle home.
The compass of soul, aligned with whispers unseen,
Guides us through life's maze, where shadows are gleaned.

The topography of mind, shaped by those we meet,
Contours our destiny, in secret retreat.
The rivers of routine, flowing through our days,
Carve canyons of character, in silent, stealthy ways.

The mountaineers of influence, climbing our minds,
Leave footprints of thought, that forever entwine.
The gardens of association, blooming with each deed,
Harvest the fruits of habit, in our inner creed.

The navigators of norms, charting our course,
Steer us through life's currents, with unseen force.
Yet, we are the cartographers, mapping our fate,
Through habits forged in proximity, an intricate state.

Surround yourself with stars, that light the night,
And your trajectory will shine, with guiding light.
For habits are the compass, that navigates our quest,
And the company we keep, is the map to our best.