The horizon holds its breath,
Where the sun bleeds into the vast ocean,
Crimson whispers lapping at shadows,
Echoes of dreams in twilight's grasp.
Voices of the deep sing ancient hymns,
Casting nets of silver starlight,
Into the cauldron of silent tides,
Waves murmur secrets to the sands.
The sky's canvas, a melancholic lullaby,
Brushstrokes of indigo and fading gold,
Silent watchmen trace the evening tide,
Moonlit sentinels in shadowed skies.
Come, walk the edge where the water kisses the shore,
A path of melodies stolen from stars,
Fingers grazing the twilight's edge.