In the curl of the eternal current, thoughts weave through brine and shadow—an echoing philosophy, quietly stirring beneath your fathoms. Each latent articulation, a fragment of whispered sieved prayers.
There's no need for compass, nor longing for closure. Let the silence read to you its osmotic secrets.
Dive deeper, where the coral spire stands vigilant as the tide's regression, an undulating hymn of forgotten rhythms.
Soles and Currents Nebulous Waves Tranquil Turbulence