Beneath the icy crust, a sterile sea,
Scientists dreamed of life's possibility.
With vials of microbes, they pierced the shell,
Hoping in darkness, life would dwell.
But as they watched their creation grow,
Something stirred in depths below.
Not simple cells as they had planned,
But ancient powers, vast and grand.
From primordial soup, titans arose,
Eyes gleaming like Europa's frozen snows.
Tentacles writhed, scales shimmered bright,
Old gods emerging from eternal night.
The mission changed, no longer mere,
As eldritch beings drew ever near.
What began as science's lofty quest,
Birthed cosmic horrors from the west.
Now Europa teems with life unknown,
Old gods of ice have claimed their throne.
A reminder that in spaces far,
We may create more than we are.
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Dimensional Doodles
PoesíaThis collection is a tapestry woven from the threads of cosmic wonder and digital intrigue, each poem a distinct journey through realms where intellect and imagination collide. Dive into a universe where quantum whispers mingle with the syntax of th...
