The Abyss speaks back, in echoes of past explosions, in the light-years stretched between us and the origin. Here, I sit, watching the fiery descent—an elegy composed of atomic sighs.
In the cradle of your light, I've grown bitter, encased in the memories of dances lost to gravity's cold embrace. The supernova sings a lonely tune, a requiem too profound for the unclaimed void.
Riddles etched into the cosmic canvas, unraveling slowly like the unraveling of my core. Did you see me shine in my youth, luminous and untamed? Now, I am mere remnants, destined to be whispers among the dust.
As the final photons escape, I etch my words into the ether: "Become stardust, not dreams echoed in silence."
Carry the remnants forward to past-lumens, or descend deeper into the void-whispers.
Let your journey continue to arcs-of-light, where each curve tells a tale older than time.