The day I dimmed, the universe paused; even the relentless march of the galaxies seemed to hold its breath. I, the luminous heart of Arcturus, had begun my slow descent into celestial silence.
The nebula around me, a tapestry woven of gases and distant memories, vibrated with a hue so rare it could only be a farewell kiss from the cosmos.
In this moment, I shared tales of birth and chaos, the birth of my fiery self from a cloud of cosmic dust, a eulogy wrapped in the whispers of time itself. Each supernova a chapter, each photon a verse.
Do you hear it? The echoes reverberating through the void, a symphony playing on the strings of space? Listen closely, and you’ll find the melody in the silence; a harmony of life and death, a duet of beginnings and endings.
Once, I danced among the brightest, the center of a waltz spanning light-years. Now, I curl into the void, my last dance a gentle drift, a serene departure.
Across my final horizon, the stars stand like watchful guardians. Their glimmers are tears, each one a silent witness to my final breath. I am no longer just light; I am memory, an imprint on the canvas of eternity.
Return to the cosmos, wanderer. The stars await your footsteps beneath their ancient veils: