In the vast cradle of silence, I weave my final lullaby,
A melody echoing through the woven wefts of time,
Pulsing like a distant moon, tethered by invisible tides,
To the rhythm, unseen yet felt, unbroken yet shattering.
What is a star if not a vessel of dreams, burning brightly in the void?
I am the spark in the dark, every flicker a memory, every flare a story
Of worlds unseen, of tides dancing to the harmony of my heartbeat,
As galaxies exhale and inhale the echoes of my light.
Remember me not as I am, but as I was—
Not the molten core, nor the gaseous veil,
But the gentle fires of my beginnings,
When the cosmos sang softly, and I listened.
For every star that dies, another is reborn
From the ashes of exhaled light and ancient gas,
A new dawn in the celestial tapestry woven tightly,
So I hum, a final note, into the ever-spinning eternity.
Follow the paths I’ve left, roads of starlight and shadow,
And remember the music where stardust fell:
Galactic Symphony
Ancient Kaleidoscope