In the cosmic womb, a cradle of silence,
the luminescence wanes—an emerald whisper.
Echoes entwined in tapestries of time,
unravel in the void, softly unspooling.
Supernova sighs seeping through
the brittle channels of eternity,
a relic profound—a heart once bright,
now a ghost adrift in twilight's embrace.
Threads of hydrogen, gentle tears,
weaving the lore of old galaxies,
where nova bloomed, now a forgotten womb,
in this stellar bubble universe engulfs.
The final chant of the incandescent soul,
rests—thermodynamics’ tender lullaby,
a celestial dirge in crystalline echoes,
destined to wander the void in silence.
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