Walking across the glossy surface, I see my reflection fragment into a million refrains, all humming in an unfamiliar, yet intimate, unity. Every step is a sonnet in broken harmony, leaving trails of shimmering echoes in my wake.
The shore whispers secrets of ancient roots embedded in alien soil, unravelling now in semblances of forgotten tales. I pause, contemplating a script unwritten, its essence floating among drifting tides of stardust.
Beneath the alien sky, patterns emerge not within physical lines alone, but across the conduits of thought, a mosaic perfectly imperfect. Am I the wanderer or the tapestry, I ponder, as I turn my gaze seaward once more.
Listen to the Mosaic