In the quiet expanse of cosmic solitude, the once-vibrant heart whispers its elegy.
The light flickers—an antique chandelier dimming before the gathering dusk.
Blazing spheres of combustion now murmur tales of ancient heat and unraveling nebulae.
Feel the cosmic sigh: a hymn sung in deep ultraviolet tones, resonating with reverberation of eternity.
Imagine floating amid the celestial ash, catching fragments of a stellar but forgotten:
The star dies, tenderly, not in screams but in songs, a ballad of radiant despair.
Its glow retreats, shyly, mystifying us with its dimming choreography—a finale no one witnesses.
Yet we are here. Observing. Eternal onlookers cloaked in the finite.
As fire gives birth to obscure light, know its truth: the end edges close, but beginnings bloom behind us yet again.
Learn of the life before the death in "The Dawn of Celestial Choreography".