A supernova remnant ignites the void, its nebula tendrils weaving a stellar nursery. Pulsar winds hum in a cosmic explosion, where mists of molten gold, rose’s sigh, and twilight’s breath whisper of stars reborn.
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A thousand-light-year rose, to honor such a fleeting member of my garden. Or is what is in my garden a momentary reflection of the cosmos. I'll take either!
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