blaze of glory

when the cold of the space  
engulfed
the hot potato  
rotating about its twisted axis  
it  
felt  
pain  
 
lobbed into this plane  
after collision in another  
which left it hot  
along with its rot  
 
the gravity of its own situation  
lost in perpetual oblivion  
 
cold  
is the truth of the universe  
no matter how large the explosion  
be it  the short radio burst  
or a supernova  
the reality is  
the cold  
prevails  
 
black holes  
are the fates  
the legacies of the  
once blazing suns  
 
the hot potato  
on the other plane  
keeps rot-ating about its own  
centre of gravity  
 
oh the gravity