In the cradle of the cosmic womb,
I shed hues of crimson elegy.
A silence stretches longer than an eternity,
And I tremble in the vastness, though eternal I am not.
Once a flickering heartbeat of silvered whispers,
Now I spin in a loop of contradictions.
To die is to breathe life anew,
Yet why does rebirth echo with the din of void?
This dance, an endless pirouette in dark ballroom stars,
Is a serenade to oblivion and a counterpoint to the dawn.
I am both the spark and the collapse;
My heart, a supernova’s sigh, entangled in an infinite refrain.
Listen—
Can you hear the stories etched in fading light?
Eternal Waltz
Echo of Collapse
Whisper of Rebirth
I am the song that trembles the fabric,
Each note a quasar’s pulse,
Flying through space’s tapestry,
Weaving light from the tales I once knew.