Imagine. Ripples in time,
And us, surfers; sound and light,
Gliding into what we foresee
Only to be driven back, without mercy.
Imagine. Roads within abyss
And hunger relaxing into promise.
Imagine. The symphony backwards.
Imagine. The origin. The afterwards.
If the worlds seem to collide,
Remember the waves, and the laws behind.
And if for continuity, doubts arrive,
Imagine. And bygones will come back to life.
Imagine. Then. Now. Time.
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