Between slumber's gentle embrace and death's eternal shore,
You linger in obsidian darkness, a realm unknown.
Soft waves, inaudible yet palpable, crash and resound,
Their spectral echoes haunting this spectral realm.
You dwell as a phantom, unable to stir or gaze,
The world of senses lost, an ocean of sensations erased.
No scent of moistened sand, no sea's arrival's touch,
No grains beneath your feet, no waters to clutch.
Bound to this desolation, an emptiness profound,
Enshrouded in the symphony of timeless white noise's sound.
This, your final sojourn, the ultimate retreat,
In this tranquil abyss, your journey's bittersweet.
Rest here, dear traveler, your odyssey complete,
In the realm where existence and oblivion meet.
No more yearning, striving, or wanderlust to heed,
This is the final refuge, the solace that you need.
