The lonely planet orbiting three suns is covered by the sea.

Even the ‘Melody of Angels,’ which symbolized hope and comforted my weary heart,

yields its place to another sun when evening falls.

In that moment, a reddish light now blankets the blue depths of the sea.

The ocean will once again surge,

and I must prepare to embrace the abyssal darkness in this place without night.

It is daunting.

The pressure of the abyss, having lost its light, feels like it will tear my body apart.

The pain never becomes familiar.

Now, the red sun of fading light gently casts my suffering into the realms of ‘forgetfulness.’

Pain is reborn through the hope called forgetting.