Cosmic Echo

What’s it like to be a star, And experience cold death? Once the hydrogen and helium core, Exhausted evermore, Collapses into itself, producing elements galore. We are carbon life created from the death. Of the ancient stars we are what’s left. Do you feel celestial? Or do I? Why do we not marvel at all before the eye? And yet we too shall experience cold death. Like our nuclear kin our light will grow dim. What does it mean to know and see? To aware that for today I am me? As the stars remain distant, As does any any answer.