Reflections: a wisp caught in ancient droplets.

In the hollow beneath, honest whispers cease to flow. Only echoes meet the walls.

Lakes of consciousness, fading like moonlight on water's edge.

Divinations were written on coconut shells, unnoticed.

A promise of the tide, always just out of reach. The murmur of sand, an unwilling consolation.

Across the ages, a shadow quenches thirst in the shadiest realm, far from the pulse of light.

A truth once submerged surfaces; water was never an ally.