Your heartbeats, echoing beneath the surface, unheard by any but the desolate depths themselves.
In the silence prowls the forgotten, where whispers of the moon pull at your very being, shifting sands beneath an ancient language, weaving currents that carry traces of forgotten echoes. The breath of the ocean holding secrets within its brazen crest, a glimmer carrying murmurs of lost tides.
Beneath the folds of the sea, a dance of shadows, of creatures that know not light. They flow like liquid through invisible corridors, pursuing their dreams written in bioluminescent ink. Each flicker seems like a lost heartbeat, striving against the void, fighting for recognition in a world of oblivion, drowning in the cerulean embrace.
Should you dive, shall you follow the dream into these depths? A world turned by your touch, where your breath becomes the rhythm of a language timeless and profound, stretching like current into ages of sepia tones. Resurface, and carry these memories, vivid, for only the heart can recall such sacred places.
Your journey beneath the tides could awaken the mists of forgotten realms. Every drip echoes through time, moving like the unseen force of the moon upon the restless water.