🖤 I Am the Wanderer 🖤

I was born among deep chaos, colliding galaxies, and dying stars.

There is only hunger and chilly silence—no house, no name, no reign of gold.

They labeled me a "rogue," a mischievous beast,

A ghost that escaped the terrible sway of the core.

Torn from cosmic rule, a titan

Raw jaws of gravity and light.

I am not a hunter. I do not pursue.

But I do not waste—stars drift close.

One approached, its heartbeat so intense that I gave it a single kiss before stealing its light.

A billion sky were illuminated by its scream.

In watchful eyes, a wound bloomed.

One man remarked, "The vacuum is moving," as the others looked on in wonder and fear.

I do not lament the stars I pull into, nor do I experience the same fear they do.

All I am aware of is the pull, the whirl, and the velvet nothingness that develops inside.

They will write about me in telescopes, data streams, and dashed hopes.

However, I continue to float through stellar foam.

A wide shadow without a place to call home.

I did, however, once hold a sun so tightly that I left a trail of light in my wake.