Space.

Forever? Maybe. Cold and dark and endless, infinitesimally like ones soul. Human contact reaches out, tendrils wrapping round, our life connected to the stars at a glance. Ice cold, far from the sun. Boiling hot like lovers in bed, close to a star. Galaxies and nebulas join hands to pray, to a god that may exist or may He be the stars themselves, determining out movement and collisions. Dark deep space, infinitely alone, but beauty all the same, lonesome beauty is quite a league of its own design...