The sun bleeds a distant melody as the murmurs of ancient tides echo through crumbling sands. Whispers clutch the marooned stones, revealing hints of paths untrod, where secrets lie marinating in mist and foam.
The tides push and pull the obsession of stone and salt. Voices gamble beneath the rustle, insistent as constellations. Time blurs beneath the undulating realm of silken currents, where everything diverges and converges endlessly.
Beneath the debris of stale laughter and void jests, an inviting horizon hovers eternally out of reach. Twilight breathes with the unquenched thirst of the unerring fathoms, a distant song echoing through teeming realms between reality and its dissolution.