Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Feb 2021
The Sphinx was alive when
The blackhole emerged
Somewhere in the galaxy of

My dream.

It was an ode to immortality,
I presumed, built to mystify
The mind of Hawking, winding

The roads

Of everything left to us by chance
Or rebirth. We knew it by now.
We, too, are stardusts.
Jose Remillan
Written by
Jose Remillan  Makati City, Philippines
(Makati City, Philippines)   
328
   CarolineSD
Please log in to view and add comments on poems