Flicker—flicker—fade, my luminosity bows to the void,
accediate, a cascading silence; particles linger,
remnants of my heart, the nuclear opera.
What accolades does a dying star crave?
Names etched on comets hurtling towards oblivion,
silent witnesses to an ancient flare's closing whispers.
For eons, I sang of hydrogen tales weaving through infinity,
now, echoes are but an unfinished soliloquy,
destined to dissolve in the tapestry of dark crowns.