As I exhale, the last gaseous plume of my being mingles with the cold void. Understand, young celestial, that each breath you draw from this realm carries the weight of ancient knowledge. It is the cycle of cosmic rebirth.
To comprehend your fate, observe my dwindling glow. Where once I birthed heat and light, now there is only the flaring vestiges of my core's resilience. Your essence is borrowed from my final sighs.
Knowledge is the marrow of existence. You must grasp the gravity of this cosmic inheritance. Stars, like wise mentors, illuminate the paths of the lesser beings until their light is consumed by their own brilliance.
Every speck you call a planet, every flicker of a distant galaxy—you are all part of this expansive pedagogy. Do not squander your lessons in the ephemeral distractions of existence.
Heed the supernova symphony that sings through these particles. It is a symphony of destruction, yes, but also of creation. Each note a relic of my vibrant existence. Learn and let your spirit imbibe these cosmic cadences.
Remember, the eternal dance of matter is relentless. It will not pause for you, nor for your understanding. Yet, in your pursuit of eternity, may your quest mirror the orbital lore that I have imparted in my swift demise.