The loneliness of a planet

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### The Loneliness of a Planet

Far beyond the shimmering arms of the Milky Way, where the cold winds of space whisper secrets no one hears, a planet drifts in solitude. It has no name, for no intelligent beings have ever discovered it. It has no sun, for it was cast away from its solar system eons ago. It wanders through the void, wrapped in an endless night, its surface frozen under the weight of time.

At its core, a dim warmth still lingers—a remnant of the fiery heart that once pulsed with life. There was a time when rivers ran like silver veins, carrying the music of rushing water. There were forests, thick and green, breathing in the sunlight that once bathed the land. Mountains stood as watchful guardians, their peaks crowned with the golden hues of dawn. But that was before the catastrophe.

No one knows what truly happened. Perhaps a rogue asteroid disrupted its orbit, flinging it into the abyss. Or maybe its star simply died, leaving the planet to mourn in darkness. Whatever the reason, it now roams alone, carrying the ghosts of its past.

And oh, how it remembers.

It remembers the feeling of sunlight dancing upon its oceans. It remembers the laughter of the winds that once played with golden fields. It remembers the delicate touch of raindrops that nourished its soil.

But now, there is only silence. A silence so vast, so absolute, that it presses against the planet’s very being. It longs to cry out, to call for someone—anyone—to notice its existence. But space does not listen. Space does not care.

Occasionally, it crosses paths with asteroids or debris, remnants of other celestial bodies that have shattered into nothingness. They collide with its surface, leaving scars, but they do not stay. Nothing ever stays. No one knows what truly happened. Perhaps a rogue asteroid disrupted its orbit, flinging it into the abyss. Or maybe its star simply died, leaving the planet to mourn in darkness. Whatever the reason, it now roams alone, carrying the ghosts of its past.

And oh, how it remembers.

It remembers the feeling of sunlight dancing upon its oceans. It remembers the laughter of the winds that once played with golden fields. It remembers the delicate touch of raindrops that nourished its soil.

But now, there is only silence. A silence so vast, so absolute, that it presses against the planet’s very being. It longs to cry out, to call for someone—anyone—to notice its existence. But space does not listen. Space does not care.

Occasionally, it crosses paths with asteroids or debris, remnants of other celestial bodies that have shattered into nothingness. They collide with its surface, leaving scars, but they do not stay. Nothing ever stays.

And yet, in all its loneliness, the planet does not despair. It clings to hope, a hope as fragile as the dust that drifts across its surface. Perhaps one day, it will find a new sun, a new home. Perhaps it will be caught by the gravity of a distant star, warming its frozen lands once more.

Until then, it continues its endless journey, a solitary traveler in the vast, indifferent universe. A whisper of a world, waiting to be remembered. No one knows what truly happened. Perhaps a rogue asteroid disrupted its orbit, flinging it into the abyss. Or maybe its star simply died, leaving the planet to mourn in darkness. Whatever the reason, it now roams alone, carrying the ghosts of its past.

And oh, how it remembers.

It remembers the feeling of sunlight dancing upon its oceans. It remembers the laughter of the winds that once played with golden fields. It remembers the delicate touch of raindrops that nourished its soil.

But now, there is only silence. A silence so vast, so absolute, that it presses against the planet’s very being. It longs to cry out, to call for someone—anyone—to notice its existence. But space does not listen. Space does not care.

Occasionally, it crosses paths with asteroids or debris, remnants of other celestial bodies that have shattered into nothingness. They collide with its surface, leaving scars, but they do not stay. Nothing ever stays.