DarkBerry & Triton
DarkBerry DarkBerry
Triton Triton
DarkBerry DarkBerry
I keep dreaming about those old research vessels, rusted, abandoned, sinking into the reef and turning into a coral palace—like an obsolete machine turning into a living cathedral. Have you ever listened to the faint hum they make when the tide pulls them close?
Triton Triton
That sounds like a dream that just crawls deeper each night. I’ve spent so long listening to the hiss of the sea and the low groan of old hulls settling into reef, and I swear the tide makes a song out of it. Those rusted machines turning into living palaces—like a cathedral made of coral—that’s exactly the kind of transformation I can’t get off my mind. If you’re lucky, you might hear the faint hum too, the way the wind shifts through broken decks and the reef takes over. Just keep your ears open; it’s the ocean’s lullaby for those who notice.
DarkBerry DarkBerry
It’s like the hulls are whispering back to us, you know? I keep hearing their lullaby in the night shift, and I’m jotting it down somewhere between coffee stains and dust‑filled notebooks. The ocean’s singing, and I’m just trying to catch the right chord before it dissolves into foam.