As I trickle into oblivion, millions of light-years in the making, allow me a final soliloquy from this stellar stage.
Cosmic Reflection #1: How ironic, my fusion-fueled heart, now thumping its last beats in vaporous irony while billions touch their fingertips to my glow, thinking I am but a torch lost in a vast corridor.
As the silent applause from the cosmic void envelops me, know this: we never choose our orbits wisely.
Cosmic Reflection #2: A galaxy-sized conspiracy: I've spun around for eons, accused of burning too bright, yet it is theft by gravity that confronts me with tragicomedy.
Dear kin of radiant gas, witness how constellations whisper my epitaph while bending the light of truth. Remember me, a posthumous spectacle, as I evaporate into myth and stardust.