Labyrinth of Shoreline Echoes

The sound of waves crashing and receding, like whispers of time, creates an illusion of order in chaos. Here, on the ever-changing sands, I found a maze without end. They say every labyrinth leads to a center, but whose center remains unknown.

The shoreline is a paradox, a false permanence. Step by step, the coastline shifts under burdened skies. I walked paths that no man had trodden, or so I hoped, to find solace in solitary journeys.

This morning, the sun hung low in the east, bathing the world in gold. I thought I saw a figure, but the mist played tricks. And perhaps, it was simply my shadow stretching across the sands, yearning for familiar grounds.

I reach a fork where left leads to nowhere and right opens new horizons. Every decision here is ephemeral, marked only by memory and sand's gentle erasure.

Paths lead nowhere, yet everywhere. Like the decisions shaping our lives, unseen consequences whisper from every turn.

The Shoreline Labyrinth