In the deep fathoms, the shadowy octopus lived. His eyes swirled. Hypnotic. Mesmerizing grantees of entrancement. He shifted in the dark, slipping through crevices. A phantom of unmeasured vastness. He knew the secrets locked beneath, in the abyss. There was no light here. No sun’s warmth. Only cold darkness, mystery, and his swirling eyes. He danced with the unknown. Embracing it. His movements wove tales the surface could not fathom. Not comprehensible to the sun-dwellers. Continents away from ordinary. He was solitude. He was mystery. He was the sea’s quietest whisper and loudest roar. Unknown, he remained. In dignity under the waves. Beautiful.