Poetic Waves Novels & Stories

They sang of the fallen warrior, relishing in the pain of his loss, but also of the ones they hadn't found, the ones who were lost or missing. *You take your sweet little time cause it's all you've got,A darker day, a total eclipse, Snow falls on a borderline crime yet it's somehow not ,A plea of mercy lingers on these frozen lips,Why can't you just let me in and be?Poseidon sends his waves to drag me far out to sea* *If you could only see the beast you've made of me I held it in but now it seems you've set it running free Screaming in the dark, I howl when we're apart Drag my teeth across your chest to taste your beating heart*

I repeated to myself over and over. The wind had become the orchestral conductor of the sea, sending waves into their crescendos all through the ballad that was the night. All about us was the perfume of the salty water and the fine spray that came as boldly as any viola flurry. It was as if life herself had entered the water and the energy was so great that this great pulse came upward to form a steady rhythm. It was beautiful. The Assyrian sea. I had once reached the shores but never actually had this view.

The waves crash onto the summer beach and spread out across the wet sand. Foam and bits of rocks and broken shells are left behind as the wave retreats back to the sea. Then again, it crashes. And then retreats. Back and forth. A repetitive movement. Yet somewhat soothing to look at.

"We are the Bridge! Don't let the layers separate!" He pushed his own internal temperature to the limit, using his Tuner to "Stitch" the gold and indigo waves together. He was performing Molecular Shear on a planetary scale. For a moment, Kael wasn't a man; he was a mathematical function, a bridge between two states of being. The Birth of the Steam-Lords Suddenly, the turbulence stopped. The waves didn't break; they merged.

The words trailed off, lost in the sound of the waves crashing against the shore. ****

The sea stretched out dark and restless under the twilight sky, waves crashing against the shore with low, angry roars. I spun around, eyes wild. “Zara!” No answer. The beach was empty. But the drag marks continued straight to the water’s edge and disappeared into the wet sand where the tide was coming in. My chest tightened. I staggered forward, scanning the dark water desperately. The waves rolled in, black and merciless. Then, just as my eyes adjusted to the dim light, I saw it. A flash of white fabric, billowing under the surface like a ghost, sinking slowly before disappearing beneath a breaking wave

The sky was like a curtain of silk adorned with fluffy clouds of heavenly grace. The sea was jewel-blue that swelled silently. The waves in the distance are like white creases on a vast bale of velvet, and the lolling is both rhythmic and mesmerizing. The pulsing heart of the sea causes a gentle swell, and the waves cascading onto the shore have that ancient alchemy of purr-and-pound. Cali's nostrils are tantalized by an unknown smell that is neither the pelagic smell of the salty waves nor the earthy cologne of the vegetation that she smells. It is much more immediate, much more familiar than that. It was a heart-warming experience for Cali.

--- The New Pulse The Heart glowed softly in the cradle of existence. Its rhythm had changed. > thrum … silence … thrum … silence. Each beat was followed by pause, each sound met by reflection. From those spaces of silence, the Heart released new waves— not of light, nor fire, nor memory— but of resonance. These waves traveled through the Living Moons, through the mortals who carried fragments of the Blood Moon’s rhythm, and through the deep stillness that had once sought to erase all things. Where the two forces met—sound and silence—

The waves danced around us, urging us to let loose and embrace the joyous energy of the sea. Dante splashed me mischievously, his laughter filling the air. I retaliated, the water splashing around us like playful confetti. We swam side by side, our bodies buoyed by the salty embrace. Words were exchanged between breaths, teasing and sweet. The cadence of our conversation matched the rhythm of the waves, each syllable a testament to the connection we shared.

"When you look out to sea, you'll notice the horizon is hemmed in sardine-silver. The distant waves resemble white creases and both rhythmic and mesmerizing." "The sea's pulsing heart causes a gentle swell, and the waves crashing against the shore have that ancient alchemy of purr-and-pound.. It's as if an old vellum parchment is unrolling in front of your eyes as they uncoil. If you could read the script, it would probably repeat the same two words over and over again: never leave. Your gaze is drawn to a small dot in the sky that is getting closer. It's a gannet, plump from stealing fish from the sea's trough.. As he approaches the frame, he emits a call that echoes the alien emptiness of