Abyss

Goodbyes always sound louder than silence. It's as if voices still linger in the room, but it's already clear that no one will return. Everything spins in circles: shadows, fragments of melodies, a heart stuck between ‘still’ and ‘no longer.’ And against the backdrop of this chaos, one pulse remains - a dry, obsessive ‘heat, heat,’ like a nervous tic of memory that won't let go.