My voice, once a chorus of creation, now fades to silence.
What do you see when my embers cease to dance
in the tapestry of your night?
Liquid luminescence drips from my fingertips, weaving tales
of beginnings and endings, dreams of galaxies yet to form.
Each droplet a memory, each ripple a cycle reborn.
Listen closely, and you may hear the ancient sighs.
The stars once sang, but now they weep.
A lullaby for the lost light.
In the dimension of voices, your ear cradles the last
verses of my fiery existence. The verses speak of
dimensions untread, of the silent hymn of voids yet to be.
Do you remember the lighthouses built upon cosmic shores?