The sun goes supernova and all that remains is beauty.
The blue and watery eye of our globe blinks and disappears without an elegy or valediction.
Nothing escapes, the masses evaporating as one expression of heat and light.
All our oiled motion ends in a drifting thing of clouds.
Corruption whirls in a luminous well as the galaxy spins.
Infant stars clump out of the infinite, yet invisible magnetic flood.
Gravity bends time and an ocean of gas arises to glow like a great lamp, grand and serene, bright as any moon.