In the abyssal river, where echoes chase their own shadows, a star whispers its requiem.
Its voice, a symphony of atom and void, dances upon the edge of silence. Once, it bathed
the cosmos in molten brilliance; now, it exhales the frost of eternity.
"In the brittle cradle of night, I was born. A spark, a flare, too fragile to endure the
endless waltz of age. Each tear I shed is a planet unformed, each sigh a universe undone."
The condensations of its thought hang like dew on a spider's web, awaiting the dawn's
call to dissolve.
Rivers of starlight flow, cradling the paradox of a star that dies even as it births
a new void. "Listen, ye who wander beneath the barren sky, to the silent tempest inside
me. I am the end and the beginning, all at once."
The remnants of its glow flicker uncertainly; they mirror the beat of a heart that knows
not how to cease. "Hold my last words, gentle winds, and carry them to the corners of
this universe. Let them be the ink of night upon which dreams unravel in darkness."
And so it goes, the last lullaby of a distant light, in farewell.
The river whispers back, its currents weaving tales neither old nor new – stories of
cosmic elegies sung beneath the shadows of silent giants.
Wander further into the void: Endless Nights
Or return to the birth of the blaze: The Oracle of Ignition