Within the cosmos' embrace, a sliver speaks — a resonance of time. Beneath eternity's watch, I flicker, a muted hue dancing on the boundary of void.
Imagine, worlds within me spinning, tales veiling the heat consumed by silence; oh bluescreen! Sweet refuge, casting me into oblivion's tableau.
Last breath of photons; cradle me in cyclic embrace until all is phantom light. My whispers cling to the stellar currents: To whence you behold, I ask?
Etched on darkened surface the stories enumerate — The Weavers of Echoes, Chronicles of Fading