Harlinn Draper

Edge of Nothing

Walking along the beach at night is like stepping into another world. We cross into a dark, dystopian dreamland, where the breeze hums with mystery. A crowd gathers, children running and playing, their laughter singing with the rhythmic crash of waves. It feels like the end of times—not through apocalypse, but through the glow of bioluminescence washing over the shore.


The infinite darkness envelops my thoughts, a vast blanket of the unknown. What lies beyond perception? Monsters might lurk deep in the warm waters of the gulf, but what haunts the darkness above the crest? These are the demons we create, born from the fears we conjure.


The fear we materialize isn’t entirely fiction. Any thought can become reality if shaped by action. This is true with terrible thoughts and malicious intentions. Be cautious of what you focus on, for it will manifest itself into your reality. As I walk, the sand cool beneath my feet, I ponder the fragile barrier between light and shadow. The shimmering sea, alive with phosphorescent dreams, reminds me that beauty and terror often coexist.


Stars above mirror the luminescence below, and in this unworldly reflection, I find the strangeness comforting. The night sky, a dome of ink, is punctuated by distant fires, each star a mystery. I feel small yet infinite.


In this nightscape, I realize that the darkness holds both the monsters of our making and the brilliance of our dreams. We must choose which to nurture, for in the end, our reality is the garden we tend with the seeds of our thoughts. The gentle lap of the waves is a cycle that is fluid, ever-changing.


In the dark space of the mind, where loss and pain bind, a restless heart seeks peace in vain, yet finds itself in endless pain.


But pause and breathe, let silence speak, for comfort hides in moments bleak. The world, with all its expanse, has held the weight of circumstance.


Each leaf that falls, each starless night, has felt the ache, the silent fright. Still, in their whispers, soft and low, a thousand voices let you know— you’re not alone in this sea, where every soul seeks to be free. The pain you hold, the tears you weep, are shared by everyone and everything we see.


I stand at the edge of land and sea with the darkest sky I’ve ever seen. The bioluminescence flickers fleeting moments of clarity in the churning of the waves, urging me to embrace both the known and the unknown.