In the depths of the ocean, where light dares not tread, the silence sings a mournful tune. It weaves a tapestry of stories untold, of currents that whisper secrets to the coral and of shadows that dance beneath the waves. But silence... oh, it echoes too. A loop, a cycle, an endless return.
"Do you hear the song of the deep?" asks the old fisherman, eyes glazed with the salt of many tides. His voice, a raspy note against the roar of the storm, fills the empty space with longing.
Somewhere, a chorus rejoices. Somewhere else, darkness unfurls. Like a broken record, skipping, stuck. Yet even in the skipping, there's a melody. Even in the loop, a story.
"There's a peace in the depth, child," he croons, as waves crash violently against the rocky coast, "a peace you'll only understand when the echoes call your name."