The Wharf of Secrets

In the quiet hum of twilight, the dock whispers tales of forgotten dreams, each plank a chapter sealed tight in the diary of the sea. Shadows gather as curiously as rain, pooling in the crevices of memory's edge. Here, the air tastes like a ghost of winter, alive with stories that linger just outside the reach of thought.

Beneath the wharf, gravity wells of emotion nestle deep, their silent siren songs drawing hearts to the depths unseen. An echo, perhaps, of what never was, or what could be, if only the wind could carry the right words. Listen closely, and the world unfurls itself like an old map, ink fading but lines still sharp in the mind's eye.

Follow the echoes Murmurs of the tides