The seas are constant, unyielding, and omnipresent. They whisper secrets of days gone by, of moments lost beneath the waves, but always felt within the currents. I find myself adrift, a ship without a compass, drawn to horizons I can only dream of. The tides turn, but here I remain, stationary, watching the dance of the moon pull the waves in and out, like breath upon the shore.
Each wave crashes against the rock of my thoughts, eroding, shaping, a sculptor of memories untold. I sit, a solitary traveler upon this barren coast, the sound of the ocean a broken record looping in my ears. It speaks of yesterday, of tomorrows never kissed by dawn. Each repetition carries a note of melancholy, a reminder of the finite nature of time, yet also of its endlessness, inescapable and beautiful.
Look into the abyss, let it reveal what it must...
The sun sinks, a fiery orb subsumed by the embrace of night, and I know the stars shall witness my vigil again. The seas of time stretch beyond my reach, beyond comprehension. Yet, in this solitude, I find peace in the echoing silence, in the refrain of the waves that rise and fall, the same song sung by an ancient choir. In their rhythm, I hear the pulse of eternity, a heartbeat as old as the universe itself.
Will the sands of time remember my footprints, or will they be erased like a child’s drawing upon the morning tide? Such thoughts plague the mind, yet offer no solace, only the truth of our transient existence. The ocean, the eternal witness, keeps its secrets as I ponder my place upon this ever-turning sphere.