In the dim dusk of yon horizon,
where blood-orange sky bleeds into indigo embrace,
silent screams swell like dreams left to the tide.
Long forgotten songs ripple through the glossed veneer,
each note a ghostly loki in the night's gentle clutch.
Ever had the ocean echo back your name?
Every new salinity tasted hints of pasts untold.
The breeze whispers potent aromas of ancient scars,
tinged like sepia-stained drunken afternoons.
Feel the waves—crafted out of liquid voids,
heavy yet illuminating, thud against your soft heart.