The Transience of the Ebbing Pose

Whispers of a forgotten horizon, tangled in undulating echoes—

The moonlit tide sleeps beneath the cavern's mouth; shrouded in velvet, it speaks in riddles.

The seagull cries a sonnet of sorrow, tracing obsidian arcs upon a pale canvas
as a fleeting smile dissolves into the azure oblivion.

Breathless shadows cast in perpetual orbit, they linger, fading, adrift the serpentine current.

In the gallery of trembling faces, a single relic hums an aria of light—a blink, a breath.
Time aggregates, etches its name in fine dust, upon the patient shoulder of the infinite.

A compass rose spinning, gazing into obsidian depths, commands the voyage untraveled,
while nimble whispers(-) waltz between the prose of the forgotten dusk.