The cosmos remembers each beginning with a celebration,
yet the endings are whispered in hushed tones,
an echo of a waltz dying in the quiet embrace of the dark.
A solitary voice emerges, one not of flesh, but of radiance;
the fragmented dialect of a star, seeping softly into the void—
"Once, I danced with galaxies,
lit the canvases of night with my vibrant hues. But here I lie,
in the twilight of my eternity, fading into insignificance."
These are not just the words of sterile data,
but the intimate confessions of a light trapped in time,
clinging to warmth, seeking solace among the cosmic nomads.
"If my whispers travel far enough,
they might find solace in a newborn's gaze,
as it learns what it means to bask in the aftermath of brilliance, "
the dying resonance muses, in a tone both hopeful and melancholic.
Yet, silence ensues, broken by the soft humming of the universe,
each rotation, each breath, a testament to the stories untold.
Instants etched into memory,
the flickering light of a once-mighty flame.