The Mothman Prophecy

blissful blasts of critical mass,
distributed insipid past thoughts
blast moths from lights
flash forward twice and be ahead of yourself in the prior tense,
fenced in forward, left behind to weave the twine of yesterday
has come and play and thoughts that drift track ways to stay
finds minds to flay, and the burning flame ignites
the bright white welding torchlight strikes
emcompass me in armor
I face the past and face forward,
face the glowing laser eyes with blue white aura
stretch out and etch out my space with grace and center of
gravity is where my etrnity is based