Defined patterns shape the sea's unpredictable heart; gravitational dance of celestial bodies dictates a rhythm unexplained yet ancient. What, you ask, is the pulse beneath the ever-fluid skin?
"The analysis, incomplete... but surely the moon speaks, does it not?"
The sun and moon's allure sink through layers unseen, pondering questions drowned by time. Every low whispers a secret to those who dive deeper.
"Did you ever hear… the theories about magnetic influence?"
Cyclic narratives of high and low tides—a tale told since time began. The ocean breathes; its rhythm, a metronome of epochs. Not merely a wave's crest but a cosmic chorus.
"Will they understand… when the tide comes again?"
Voices wane into whispers as questions of magnitude and depth cascade into echoes. Each answer carried away by the tide's capricious grasp.
"Listen… do you remember the legend of the sea devils?"
Perhaps beneath this veneer, a truth flickers like phosphorescence—a mystery untold, wrapped in the scuttle of time.
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