As dusk sinks beneath the great waves, turtles drown in the echo of laughter, while the jellyfish waltz in moonlit ripples. Here, where whispers dissolve into the fathoms, currents carry shadows of forgotten giants—face to face in this deep dark expanse, yet strangely, always behind.

The abyss hums gently, echoing secrets of old—a harmonized solitude engaging the listener. Mirrors—ghostly images—reflect our own shadows, creedless pasts, futures unspun and left to the unfathomed tides.

Mirage-like, memory-altered scenes glide by—each reflection begs for recognition, as if echoing notes from an unseen harp. Do we whisper to the sea, or does it speak back with voices unbidden and free?