Once, the air tasted of salt and shattered dreams,
where the sea whispered tales of a forgotten age,
and the hum of machinery mimicked the waves,
blending logistics with an echoing lullaby.
In these tangled thoughts, a path unfolds,
marked by shadows of past summers,
where plastic boats drifted on ephemeral ponds,
their hues vibrant against the grey sky.
Whispered Dreams — a parallel journey,
through corridors of echoing solitude and
the silent octopus of memory, wrapping
its arms around the fragile moments captured.
Listen closely, and you'll hear it too,
the symphony of forgotten echoes,
arranged like a dissonant yet harmonious
overture played by the universe itself.
Beyond the horizon of commonplace,
lies the utopia of forgotten plastic dreams,
surviving storms of indifference
and tranquil in the chaos of existence.