Stellar Evolution

What nebula, asked frankly, could predict

That time and gravity would forge from it

Four forms, according to a pattern strict

For changing parts is this one actor fit

A protostar from dust and gas is made

Parts meet, dance, and are fused to form some light

Be patient, for if we are not afraid

We might produce some shining heat tonight

But it won’t last, and inevitably

Our gorgeous light will spawn a giant red

Vexing things we ignored, charitably

Will fill us with rage, blame and creeping dread

What remains will be a mere dwarf, still white

Which will turn black, on some impending night