In the chambers of a timeworn echo,
the whispers flutter like moths, trembling in luminescent shadows.
What lunatic dreams did sail upon your hoary decks,
when the horizon melted—a canvas of cobalt ink?
Starlit sentinels above crashing waves, a somber lament blooms in longing:
A parchment, redolent of blackened reveries, reflects visions unperturbed.
Here lies the shades unburdening their burdens,
Through the galley of memories, swim further into:
Dance on the frayed edges of knowing—
frail horizons linger just beyond touch.