In the depths of forgotten anthems, where darkness clings with tendrils of silence,
the seashell cradles the symphony of the void—endless, echoing, barbarous beauty.
The moonlight's pallid grip shimmers on the abyss, where ancient ghosts
entwine with the currents, singing hymns of eternal twilight.
Among the coral crags and spectral sands, the lost lyrics lie in wait,
wrapped in whispers, woven like gossamer dreams.
Listen, oh traveler, to their mournful call,
and let the hymn of the ether guide you home, or to further graves.