In the quiet resonate of forgotten voids, where whispers linger in the echoes of shells, does one find salvation, or merely a reflection of self? This harbor, adorned with the vestige of light, captures not the weary tide but the fleeting dance of luminescence, forgotten yet eternally present.
Piloted by the ephemeral, the anchor is rusted not by brine but by the sighs of existence. To dwell here is to float upon still perceptions, each ripple a fleeting thought, each lull an unfinished symphony.