Intergalactic Rights

Criss-crossing the cosmosonique,
burrowing through closed-off wormholes,
hitching rides on comet tails,
using planetary spin-offs
to jump dimensions,
the composer finally managed to arrive
in time to witness
the shuddering collapse of his favourite
musical vortex
into a molten plasmatic
phantasmagorical
penumbra of interstellar nebulae.

He could catch the tunes of only
a cluster of bubbly gaseous realms
before the other clouds floated away
to queue at different interstices,
to birth new songs
in modular universes anew.

The clouds needed no directions,
just his presence
to witness their autonomous decisions,
to form their own orchestral music
in case of future conundrums
pertaining to signature tunes.

For everyone knew of the composer’s reputation
for persistent honesty
despite his penchant for
riding it rough
around the edges of the known universe,
never mind the unknown ones.