Through The Wormhole...

Of stories, I read of time travel,

I wonder how they have a timeline,

Seems odd, to have, a certain past,

And a future, unchanged by this sin.

Would not then clocks, behave like

Compass needles, reversing rotation

As you move from the left to right,

For once you have, the rule over

dimensions of time, you stand free,

From the flow of time, the arrow

Guided by ever-increasing entropy.

Then it occurred to me, that

If there were no beginning of time,

You cannot even fabricate a story.