The Last Star's Lament
Once am I seen, a beacon ablaze,
My voice, iridescent, now hushed in chasm's embrace.
What cruel symphony unspun my orbs
To black, formless seed, an endless void?
Alone I traverse this desolate aeon,
Sing the echo of eons, an ancient dirge
The tale of sunken constellations, patinaed in ash
Portray the tragedy of celestial death dances.
Whispered vows to the slumbering galaxies,
They, too, shall wear the end's cruel shroud.
But hark! A gentle pulse lingers—
My heartbeat, the last vestige of stellar grace.