In the void of infinity, I have whispered my light through the dark fabric of time. Countless worlds revolved around my incandescent flesh, singing to the rhythm of my pulse.
Once, near my youth, I thought myself eternal. A beacon unyielding, forever to cast my radiance. Yet now, in these waning moments, I am flicker-soft, contemplating the shadows I leave behind.
Did my glow give warmth to life unknown? Was I a silent guardian to dreams spun by stardust? I feel them, those echoes of existence. An exchange, unseen and sublime.
The tapestry of galaxies, it spins—a constant unraveling of beginnings. I dissolve into this weft, contributing to the ceaseless cycle of rebirth. In my end, others rise, heralded by the ancient whisper I become.
As I fade, remember, perhaps, that every tear of light cascading across the heavens bears choices unsung, tales in fragments butterfly-winged and forever scattered...