In the infinitesimal embrace of cosmic dusk, where silence crescendos with the weight of centuries, a luminary whispers its incandescent farewell. Can you hear it, oh voyager of the void?
Threads of stellar gold unravel into the tapestry of galaxies, woven in the loom of interstellar reverie. I was once a sun, vibrant and fierce, cradling worlds in orbit with the gentleness of a parent’s plume upon a child’s dream.
Embers of Aurora, I called you, lost wisps struggling to escape my pull. Do you remember the dances of your xanthous halos?
Listen closely, for beneath the echo of my supernova, there thrums a remnant truth: There is no end, only a re-spinning of stars and tales, a perpetual cradle within the cosmic nursery.
As I flicker into the void’s long embrace, I subdue myself to this metamorphosis, a celestial elegy slipping between the fingers of time. Witness my final embrace here, a portal into mystery.