Deep within the recesses of our being, where tides of thought ebb and flow, lies the sea-soul. This essence drifts like a phantom ship on a stormy horizon, its masts silhouetted against the dawn.
The sea-soul sings songs of the ancients, tales woven of salt and mystery, echoing through caverns of time. Each wave a memory, each ripple a reflection of moments vast and indescribable.
The maze of the mind is no less intricate than the ocean's labyrinth, a vastness where every junction diverges into the unknown and endings are mere illusions of closure.