Whispers of the Forgotten Current

In the heart of twilight's song, a fossil sinks silently, cradled by whirlpool's breath.

Echoes of ancient shells spiral outward, crafting bridges in the mist—

Dreams cocooned within dreams, drifting, drifting, not yet found.

Along the edge of time's spiral, a buried thought unwinds:
"Why do the shadows dance on moonless waters?" A question posed to the void, met with clandestine smiles.

A bumblebee hums a forgotten melody, echoing through caverns of old, while we stand here, lost in reverie.