Creeping Voyage

In the beginning, nothing moved but the shadows cast by time, shadows that spoke of long-forgotten journeys.

The ship sails on, and on, and on, its path a constant repetition of the dawn and dusk that chase eternity. The ocean whispers its secrets, secrets that are never revealed, only felt, only heard.

The waves are not waves but echoes of the past rippling through the present, cyclic, everlasting. The sound of the ship creaking is a reminder, a mantra in itself.

The ship sails on, and on, and on... looping, circling, tracing the same stars that glitter dimly in the night. The captain's log is a testament to this journey, a document repeating itself, entry after entry, page after page.

Yet, amidst this repetition, there are moments of quiet reflection. The sea is wide, the horizon always out of reach, but it is the journey that defines the traveler, not the destination. Remember this, the ocean murmurs, remember.