In the echoing ballet of cerulean waves, dreams begin to weave.
The sun dips below, a torch cast adrift, cerulean sighs into night.
Clouds, like memories, unravel and slide, fingers unfurling, a mist alight.
Voices carry distant, under currents unseen, echoing truth's soft betrayals.
Illusions whisper to the ancient stones, kingdoms of reverie where silence moans.
Rivers hum lullabies beneath starlit retorts, unmended coastlines cherish secrets.