What song do the shells hum, enfolding the sea's lullabies
carved in the sand of whispering horizons? I hear undertows,
sweet murmurs like veiled secrets. Like dreams trapped
in glass jars, sealed with a shore's kiss.
I chased a whisper through the cobbled dreams,
following echoes of voices unplaced in memory,
yet palpable as autumn's chill touching bare trees.
Do they hear me within these chambers of salt and time?
Beyond the earthen door, there lies the vast table of eternity,
seashells scattered like forgotten promises.
They murmur to the tide that they once were men,
with wings of silver, pondering the infinite shore.