Eclipses forerun the distant signal
like moths to an unseen flame.
Threads of the night sing strange songs,
echoes embedded within tremors of light.
Do you hear it? The cosmic lullaby?
Birth pains of a nova held in cryptic whispers,
resounding like hearts brushed against glass shards.
Sky marks invisible scars and still you ask questions.
Pulses lost in the intricacies
of quantum webs, vibrating at frequencies uncharted and ungained.
The celestial clock ticks in shadows,
and here you are, counting unholy red lights.