Dustlings floating endlessly pursuing and drifting further into a vastness,matter painted black.

Searching for a destiny light millennium slow dance of heaviness, a gravity worth hanging around.

Airless gasps of constant revolutions, all states of matter form a convolution, hourglass sand falls in ordered disarray.

Gathering momentum to claim a position, spherical designs by the equivalent precision, strategically placed masses with fertile substrate.

Still honor dictates that I must confess, making bright vivacious planets is the best, even if only to devour them in the end.