The Life of Stars

The Life of Stars

Beneath the vaulted dome of night’s embrace,
Where shadows weave their cold and spectral lace,
The stars, those orbs of fire’s deceitful gleam,
Burn fierce with fevered light, a fleeting dream.
No gentle shine bedecks their cosmic pyre,
But flames, voracious, born of heaven’s ire.

The brighter they blaze, with ardent, reckless might,
The swifter they perish in eternal night.
Each spark, a soul that dares to flare too bold,
Consumes its essence, leaving ash and cold.
Their glory tempts the eye, a radiant lie,
Yet doomed to dwindle, fade, and swiftly die.

In this emergent void, where chaos reigns,
No steadfast law the universe sustains.
The only truth, unyielding, stark, and strange,
That none can gauge, is change—relentless change.
The stars, though fierce, succumb to time’s decree,
Their embers strewn across eternity.

O mournful heavens, draped in sable shroud,
Your beacons wane beneath oblivion’s cloud.
No constancy endures, no hope remains,
Where burning stars dissolve in cosmic chains.
And yet, I gaze, enthralled by fleeting flame,
To whisper soft their lost, unuttered name.

“Stars don’t shine they burn
The brighter they burn
The shorter they live
The only constant
In an emergent universe
Is change”

-S