Perfect Emptiness

The ocean spews forth colour from the depths where it's truth dwells. The endless void of the above and the beyond cast down on boundless waters whose will knows no enemies nor allies. Vessels of wood and metal cut through uneasy wave hoping not to anger their host or be subject to it's wrath. A no-mans land where one is in the palm of an angry deity's fist or adrift amidst the desolation and pain of hopeless solitude. A place on Earth where unknown forces gather with enduring legend and indescribable myth.
Yet even here where only the blithely bold or the incalculably insane venture alone there is untold beauty. The perfection of nothing, the marvel of a continually evolving landscape, making and unmaking itself, it's form cast in flux, never happy with the what was or is only the promise of what may be. A picture never finished, a story told without a full stop
In clement weather or a storm wrought hell for leather, the endless seascape reveals nothing, it's mysteries concealed by the curvature of the Earth it floods. The distant ring of the fog horn preventing potential doom, the cry of an Albatross under a Hunter's Moon the soundtrack to chaos before the storm.
Beneath the waves a world more alien than the heavens, where the unseen, hidden denizens await our time passing and sink further into the darkness.