She drifted past the spiral arms in white, A shadow snuffing galaxies to dark. She held the dying pulsars to her breast, Like children, singing chaos into sleep. "Do not be frightened," hummed to worlds of ice, "The dark is velvet-deep, you are not lost." She swept the dust of nations into glass, Preserving lovers' vows before they broke. There is a beauty in the sudden halt, Perfection in the stop, like gravity That waits to catch the ocean in its fall. She severed light from heat, and form from mass, A cold tranquility beneath the storm. So infinite her mercy, grace so strange, She wiped the seat of life from Nature's face. For eons she has walked, the gardener, Who plucks the solar systems like a bloom. She does not take with malice or with hate, She only opens wide the iron door. And now she stands before your yellow sun, To answer with a kiss the final call. You tremble at her silence? Fear the end? You think she brings the night to kill the stars? She weeps to see you breathe, knowing the truth. She is not here to hollow out your soul; She kills you now to save you from the Hunger.
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