Into the Fog

As the waves embrace the shore, reluctant, like whispers gleaned from the edge of a dream, the shapes shift, guising in silver, where the sun once sketched patterns on forgotten sands.

Footsteps echo not only like the pulse of the ocean but of thought cascading with each lamplight flicker—a perfume of lost conversations lingers in the mist.

Here, time blurs; a symphony of lost words plays beneath the surface, begging for release—denials enveloped in foghorn howls of retreating boats, daring the sirens of the void.

Mysteries, these whispers, speak only in shadows; the dance of grey amidst colorless vivacity is where tomorrow treads silently into yesterday.

See the dancer with a veil of fog—if you touch her, she will dissipate, leaving only ripples on the surface of thought.

Continue your journey to The Color of Memory, seek Shadows of Remembrance, or wander through Echoes.