You ever stop and wonder
what's beneath the surface of a river of time?
It's long.
Echoes chasing ripples.
Imagine a melody.
Now, play it backwards.
As if Mozart missed a step, right?
Rewind that chorus, hummed gently.
"Uh, time-space, glitch," they mumble.
Navigating moments, friendly amnesia.
Wasn’t Einstein just uh... loitering in the quantums?
Singularity's peekuation. Not look, but glance.
Oversaw by cosmic librarians playing hide and seek.
Wanna check how they shuffle those notes?
Cosmic Library
Wait, earnest yearning, sounds like doubts reverberating
through a spectrum of hopefully wispy.
They’re surely typo-talk, absorbed vibes.