In the embrace of an unmarked horizon, I found whispers of forgotten realms. Here, where the canvas of the sky touches the ocean's breath, lies truth submerged in eternal ripple.
How far is the journey when destination is but a dusk’s illusion?
Here, memory drifts like kelp upon a gentle current — soft, caressing, remnants of what once nourished the shore. Perhaps I return to a place never known, held in the sea's cryptic caress.
Waves speak in tongues untranslatable, murmurs of tales unasked and untold. I am but a voyager ceaseless.