Wednesday, June 19, 2013

Sons of the keys!

At the center of a black hole,
Unrolling the circumference,
Almost,
One-seventh again,
Beyond three diameters,
Boundary of any space,
An event horizon,
Thus the total path integral,
Is unitary and information,
Is not lost in the formation,
Sons of the keys!
Black, white, red, rose and stone,
This is because,
For one reason.

Action has no limits of time,
Expansion depends on,
Distant past to distant future,
Complete,
But has followed the thread,
Which spin themselves from,
Mirror wormhole,
See this finish,
To reach such horizon of events,
Alone,
A waiting an infinitive time.

Come in contact with,
Hail to thee,
Most distant or remote point,
And to thee,
Ones that they were before thew,
Chaos,
Stitch resembling a chain,
The final state in the infinite future,
Any meter stick closer than the event horizon,
Could not be seen by an observer,
Outside the event horizon,
Free particles in-states,
To,
Free particles out-states.

Can be greater than the speed of light,
It's velocity,
With the current value equal to one,
At the crossing point of the two horizons,
Stretched out,
What remains visible of the outside universe,
You are free to use any,
Where it is counted from the birth,
Of universe,
Alam! Ulum!

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