Distinct

So back came the sensations,

Old, distrusted gushing flows.

There are the best emotions,

There are the blushed glows.

The vividness of predictions,

Shake the time's predicaments.

Clarity has no resurrections,

Future within bound of torments.

The blemishes rise upon,

Presence where it should belong.

It is the fort of ballons begone,

Only thing you see now, along.

Placid ways of times,

Slewed and thought beyond.

They are once existent,

With one we become rather fond.

They consume you, these pasts,

They mitigate the others.

You never know for how long it lasts,

They are mind's unseen feathers.

They are asunder timeless,

One passes without farce.

You cannot see the future into the past,

The present cannot erase the scars of the cast.

Three beams of periods,

Neither are together, entirely apart.

The future can stay with your wit,

Lone is the present and so the past.