BLINKING LIGHTS
In a sky once filled with golden gleam,
The sun has set on its final dream.
Silent whispers, cosmic night,
Herald the birth of the Blinking Light.
The sun’s farewell, a solemn glow,
A billion years now laid low.
Flames extinguished, warmth turned cold,
A story of endings, eons old.
Yet in the dark, where shadows play,
A foreign spark begins to sway.
An alien heart, with pulsing might,
Emerges as the Blinking Light.
Not of fire, nor of flame,
No mortal tongue can speak its name.
It quivers with a spectral hue,
A beacon where the old sun flew.
It flickers softly, then ignites,
With rhythms of celestial rites.
A dance of light, strange and bright,
New dawn under the Blinking Light.
Its glow is eerie, void of heat,
With whispers of the stars, discrete.
A presence from the realms afar,
Guiding the night like a silent star.
The planets watch with cautious eyes,
As ancient tides begin to rise.
In the absence of the sun’s embrace,
The Blinking Light takes its place.
A world reborn, in alien grace,
Time weaves a new and mystic lace.
In every pulse, a silent plea,
A tale of what was, and what will be.
So rest, old sun, in twilight's keep,
Your secrets in the cosmos deep.
For in your stead, a new light’s flight,
The universe hums to the Blinking Light.
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