Time drifts not straight but in loops,
Like electrons in their cosmic dance.
The universe resides at its core,
Like a nucleus guarding its door.
Cycles and oscillations take their turn,
Colliding as they twist and burn.
Déjà vu feels strange, yet not too far—
Moments that recoil without a scar.
Echoes ring a chime we'll never know,
A fallen dream that moves too slow.
In this tug of war within the space,
We live in orbits, seamless in trace.
Chasing memories that may not exist,
A tempting secret few minds can resist.
Is it a delusion, a theory of imagination,
Or a scientific truth, seeking inspiration?