In the terminal expansion of facts unbound,
A star whispers its elegy in scrolls of light—
Encanthara, avatar of radiant quintessence,
said:
My corridors, stitched with solar threads, bear
the shadows of the hope they couldn't cloak.
I walked these paths, imprinted with cosmic sighs,
Tangential reflections became my thoughts at last.
Veins of supernovae run through ages unsung,
Carve escutcheons on invisible doorways.
Did they mirror my pulse, or originate from dreams?
I wonder, in circles gleaned from emptiness itself.
Each grain perishes when the expansion dulls to stillness—
Each light, birth and oblivion entwined in a casual curve.
To embrace without restraint, envelop every distance.