I am the incandescent core,
a mere ember in the grand tapestry,
unraveling slowly amidst the silent echoes.
As I expand into the cosmic soup,
ponder this paradox:
Is entropy the only truth in the universe unknowable?
My light—an ancient whisper,
dances upon the edge of existential seams,
as if asking:
What remains when all light succumbs?
To die without dying,
an echo in the cosmic ocean,
an eternal question mark written in stellar dust.