Under the tide, beyond decode, where tales dissolve into salt and silence, the mariners buried their dreams. Fragments of stories, disjointed and sprawling—once warriors, now whispers—a constellation of forgotten voices echo amidst the brine. Here, the ocean embraces all, a liquid cathedral for wandering souls.

Do you remember the sirens' song? Unsung and unseen, veiled in seaweed and shadows. The lighthouse flickers erratically, a metronome for the reckless. Coral Memory waits, patient and eternal.

Time is a current, relentless, it carves through stone and fate alike. Captains' logs, inked in twilight, decay in the dark. The sunken ships breathe— sculptures of sea—witnesses to the slow, poignant unraveling of purpose.