The fisherman whispered to the sea, “Are we merely echoes of your storms?” Here, beneath the canvas of uncertain skies, memories washed ashore like uneaten shells left to decay, breathing in soft hues that carried tales untold. Each grain of sand beneath this relentless water swayed like dice in the gambler's palm—an uncertain chance at truth.
Guided by frayed sails of forgotten whispers, hearts collided in rhythm with the gulls—a wretched harmony of lost prayers... Can the shadows speak, beckoning jumbled remnants of lost loves?
Through shattered reflections, I ponder the laughter that dances between waves—a mystic laughter taken apart, and the salinity of regret drips like the dew of mourning. Dreams wear tattered cloaks stitched from vacuous clouds, humour lingers like a ghost embracing citron trees.
What would you do if the sea could sing your story back, throat full of salt and sorrow? Cross the line, push the ethereal! Find freedom there in Kaleidoscope Echo @kaleidoscope_echo.html.