Mike Stone's "Bloodmyth" starts with a cold, damp autumn scene: a foggy night sky (the first word, "Eoggy," looks like a typo for "Foggy"), wet leaves on a path, and a moon that seems to carry "betrayal." Nothing is explained, so the setting feels uneasy, as if something is about to happen.
Then the poem turns. Three lines begin with "returns": strength, a pale green light in the eyes, and the "bloodmyth" in the arms. The speaker seems to feel an old, almost inherited power waking up in the body. The poem never says what the bloodmyth is, but the word suggests a story or legacy carried in the blood, something ancestral or instinctive. The green light in the eyes gives it a slightly wild, animal quality.
The last line, "Existence is a form from the future," is strange and open. Perhaps the speaker feels pulled forward by this force, or sees the self as something still taking shape. The mood is eerie, tense and charged, with a mix of dread and excitement.