Whistling wind, whispering, through a hollow shell.
Echos of the lonesome deep, felt so keenly in an icy chill.
Heartfelt pain, entrenched in the soul of the sea.
Be it raging storm or lowly swell, never far from the surface, the beast lies in wait.
Solititude in forgotten coves under the stars, remains a hopeless dream.
Alas... If only it could be so...