a Fallen Star

A streak of fire, a fleeting wish,

I tore across the velvet cloak of night.

Born from the crucible of a distant sun,

I hurtled for eons, a burning ember lost in time.

My fiery trail, a fleeting inscription,

Across the canvas of the indifferent void.

A silent scream in the symphony of the cosmos,

A whisper of existence before eternal oblivion.

What memories do stars possess?

Do we dream in the language of light and gravity?

Or are we simply vessels,

Carrying the indifferent torch of existence?

The air, a hungry maw, greedily devoured my light.

My once-proud form, a wisp of smoke dissolving.

A million burning particles scattered,

Returning to the cosmic dust from whence I came.

Was my journey merely a spectacle,

A fleeting entertainment for unseen eyes?

Or did I spark a flicker of wonder,

A momentary wish whispered on the wind?

In the tapestry of the endless night,

My story, a single thread, burns briefly and fades.

Yet, in the vast emptiness, even the smallest spark

Leaves an echo, a testament to the fleeting beauty of existence.