Teardrops of Entropy

Worlds spin about a dying star,

A silent troupe of dancers in the void,

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Fearing not that nova flame

Shall inevitably destroy.

And so the astronomer will look up and smile

At the cold majesty of boundless sky

From such distance he sees just beauty

While the victims wonder why.

Yet worry not life’s discontent,

It’s born of fears unseen,

And though chaos shall strive forevermore

‘tis just grey pallor to beauty’s dream.