Whispers of the Weary Waves

Long before the twilight crested the horizon of eternal lights, the star whispered, "I am but a flicker." In the vast void, her voice danced in silken threads of memory and flame.

Her heart, once a celestial forge, crumbled into dust of infinite depth, each grain a remembrance of time that was and never shall be.
"My agony courses through the expanse of the stellar sea,” she lamented, a sonorous echo of weariness etched upon the universal canvas.

In answer, the ancients carved a doorway in the infinite. "Emerald tides await," they murmured, their voices the rustle of galaxies colliding in the silence.
The weary traveler embarked, leaving whispers in her wake: the tepid breaths of stars on the galactic shore.