In the cradle of the void, whispered currents hymn
the echoes of unknown tides—murmurs soft as shadows
cast by the moon's reluctant gaze. Once, clarity
danced above, but now perception wanders blind
amid coral thoughts and kelp-laden dreams.

You must listen—to brave the silent sea that
cradles all stories untold; sip amber cryptograms

and
taste the salt of hidden words, flecked with
history's sorrowed ink. Beyond these whispered shores,

time unravels like a forgotten thread, fraying into
a mosaic of ceaseless change. Seek not the light,
for it is the absence of light that unveils the unseen
truth; shadows bleed colors unseen by waking eyes.

Follow the silent currents to Orbs of Misty,
beyond sleepy currents, past the reefs of ruptured
destinies—here we reside, in the depths' gentle
embrace, where truths unravel and weave again
in the tapestry of twilight's forgotten sighs.

The deeper we dive, the clearer the whispers.
Listen. Do you hear them? Echoes of a lost song
drifting through time, a lullaby of Flotsam Traces in
the wake of memory's ship, adrift on the surface
of the Unseen Sea.