A tide‑glass hour ends before the sand, but the sea keeps counting.
A ring compass points north yet circles my finger like a vow.
Even broken, a lantern shard keeps a fragment of the night inside.
North waits for no tide; it circles in gold.
A vow can light the way, even in shards.
The night ends before the sand, and the sea continues counting.
.
Sep 20, 2025
Sep 20, 2025 at 8:40 AM UTC
A tide‑glass hour ends before the sand, but the sea keeps counting.
A ring compass points north yet circles my finger like a vow.
Even broken, a lantern shard keeps a fragment of the night inside.
North waits for no tide; it circles in gold.
A vow can light the way, even in shards.
The night ends before the sand, and the sea continues counting.
.
