The sea whispers in hues of crimson, an endless echo; thoughts adrift like boats without sails. I ask the depths to listen, to understand the loops I've wound in my head. The tide answers, but only with its own relentless rhythm, a symphony of solitude, marked by each splash, each retreat, each return...
In the heart of the crimson swell, I feel the same questions return, asking, repeating, asking, repeating; no answers, only a hollow resonance within the salt and the silence. Do I swim or do I sink? The decision is swallowed by the waves, and I am left to ponder, only to ponder, forever pondering...
Will the sea ever tire of me? I weave through currents of contemplation, yet the crimson sea remains, faithful and unyielding, an eternal sky of ocean. Perhaps I'm but a ripple within it, transient, ephemeral, yet somehow, it seems, somehow...
Reflect Further