There are tales untold that dwell beneath the surface of the sea, in the depths where light dares not to tread. Here, forgotten voices linger in the currents, weaving stories of solitude and longing. The lost seas are not maps nor charts, but the very breath of the ocean itself.
Above, the gulls cry. Below, the mystic slumber. We are but voyagers on this boundless blue, seeking what is never meant to be found. Ghost ships appear on the misty horizon, fading like the breath of wind, their sails a tapestry of shadows.
There lies a tapestry of lost ships in the unseen vaults, woven from the very fabric of twilight. Some whisper of a phantom crew, everlastingly searching for safe harbor.