In the murmur of the ocean's breath, where time is cast in nets of starry thread,
lies a circle of dreams unclaimed, a carousel of glassy whispers.
Each orb, a whisper of the tide, round and round in capricious dance,
echoing the whims of a clockwork heart.
Melodies of the Abyss,
where sirens weave the moonlit songs
that bind the restless souls beneath.
Pause and listen; each ripple undulates
a story whispered from the coral halls,
stories of marionettes astray,
basking in the phosphorescent glow.
The Pulse of the Deep,
a rhythm unknown to surface dwellers,
synchronized in its chaotic harmony
with the tides of ancient lore.
These orbs, guardians of ephemeral dreams,
drift on the cusp of night and dawn,
amidst the clockwork of the universe,
binding the world in wax and wane.