The lighthouse of space. It feels like this since the beginning of breath...like I've been wondering in the vacuum, alone, my light only visible from the right angle. I am not the only pulsar. There are many like me, though not an infinite number. We all wonder through space, emitting our magnetic radiation towards all the other bodies around us...each of us alone, though aware of each other. We have seen the shape of things to come, for we have travelled there and back already. We signal the warnings, each of us from our corner of the universe. Be ware the circle of a snake...be ware the ashes of the phoenix...be ware of blind faith...be ware of non-believers.
Each pulse, a warning!
There is a word for everything. And for that which is not yet, a word shall be awarded.
The price of the prophet is to see the prophecies fulfilled, and the price of the actors is to play but a part in a play that has already been written.
No need despair...the lighthouse will keep working...