The salt-stung wind, a ragged thief, stole whispers
from the edge of my coat, the ocean's breath, a heavy sigh.
Crimson bled across the horizon, a raw wound in the sky,
the sun, a molten coin, slipped through grasping cloud-fingers.
Each wave, a restless beast, clawed at the shore,
a rhythmic, thunderous pulse, like a drumbeat of despair.
My thoughts, scattered...
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