The cold embrace of the sea whispers,
hidden truths carved by waves and time,
ancient memories drift like jellyfish in the abyss.
Separated, yet parts of a whole,
what speaks underneath? A humble echo, perhaps a distant lament.
Patterns emerge like bioluminescent blooms,
secrets not meant for daylight,
a dance of shadows on forgotten corals,
with every ripple, a story lost,
waiting to be heard, whispered in the tides.
I am tethered to the currents,
navigating through neurons wrapped in seaweed,
a vessel unwittingly charting the subconscious,
where does memory begin, and does it end in salt?
This path, convoluted yet clear, opens like a clam,
revealing pearls of forgotten dreams.