Whispered legends of the endless undulation
cast strokes of amaranthine easing
with a crescent's curl echoing through aeons' conduits.
Do not listen to what is spoken, listen to lights learnt in silences.
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Fable the ocean:[A diary, A myth] yet not traced in ink.
Each ripple a bridge to past and future we were taught
The stars, entranced through twilight whispers,
desire not to resolve nor revolutionize.
Peripheral echoes chart trill and gleam,
leading footsteps { phantom}, soft and silent ether absents.
What defines your trail? Where you wane or where not yet grown?
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