Old Friends by Alexandria Crowell

Photograph like the face of a whithered woman's. Albino white, cracked with age but the beauty shines through. Her eyes like the sea, reckless and wild. This building, old and calm once held the same happiness. Now tucked away in seams of alabaster walls. Windows dark, keeping in its secrets. Though you can't see in, and you will never know from this spare moment frozen in time what lies within those mysterious dark windows. You imagine what it must see of us. It's wishes and old memories reflecting on what it sees we've become. Looking upon the wild waves. Crashing day by day. Keeping in it's serets as well, they relate with one another, old as time itself the building seems, the waves have crashed longer. Old friends you could call them. Both still feel human contact, both still share the same spot frozen in time. Colors matching, they conversate, truly like old friends. Shades of the same, you can barely tell them apart. They've grown together, learned eachother well. Posiden's Kingdom and the old withered women...with eyes like the sea.