Dark sand

The sun bowed low behind the sea, spilling its final breath of gold— a whispered farewell that kissed the dark and left the sky in hues untold.

 

The sand beneath, obsidian soft, held light like secrets rarely shared. Each footprint I made vanished fast, as if the earth knew Lost was there.

 

Ancient stones, half-sunk and worn, cradled the hush like elders do. Their shapes were memories carved in dusk, their silence shaped the ocean’s hue.

 

The tide, a song that can't be tamed, brushed close as if it knew my name. And I became the breeze, adrift in nature’s soft flame.

 

The stars, still sleeping in the blue, tried to wake, and dared to shine. I felt their pull, against the twilight's thread— a longing stitched with the hands of time.

 

What lies ahead? I never ask. For beauty lives where knowing ends. A shoal of light beneath the dark, a place where sea and soul amends.

 

The stones did not speak. They simply watched, and I, like them, became the lore— of winds that carry names unkept, of sunsets I’ve been searching for.

 

Lost

Done