A shadow drifts between the glowing spheres,
A maw of void that drinks the solar flare;
It does not feel the weight of mortal fears,
Or breathe the thin and suffocating air.
It unravels every thread of violet light,
To weave a cloak of cold and endless gray;
The architect of universal night,
That turns the golden galaxies to clay.
A planet shivers as the sun grows dim,
Beneath the hunger of a cosmic ghost;
Who dances on the very edge and rim,
Of all the things that heaven values most.
The stars are snuffed like candles in the deep,
As ancient giants fall into their sleep.
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