The Dying star

Once I burned with steady fire, glowing fierce, a bright desire. Now I’m faint, a fading spark, lost and drifting through the dark. The pull is strong; I start to fall, a tiny flicker, barely at all. Each shining piece slips from my core, and I am not what I was before. I used to blaze, to light the skies, a thousand worlds within my eyes. But now I’m just a thread of light, a shiver lost to endless night. I wonder if they even see this breaking, hollowed-out version of me. I’m swallowed by the weight I keep, a silent slide into the deep. I wanted to hold on, to stay, to keep my warmth from slipping away. But I am tired, worn, and weak my light is gone, my voice is meek. And as I fade, I wonder why I ever thought stars could not die. I thought I’d shine forever bright, but now I’m lost to endless night. So here I go, without a sound, a spark that never touched the ground. Invisible, I fall apart, a dying star, a broken heart.