Soma My world is the same, no? We were but ships passing by in the night.

But in that night I saw something glorious. The death of a star, the last, beautiful spasm of life. An irruption of brief and finite glory that for some would change their worlds.
Not mine.
My ship sails on, a candle snuffs out. I pray on the morrow that my sun rises, and the world continues on, but in my heart of hearts, I know the bright life is limited.
what's it to you?
who go