Fascinate.
To be shade cast by
The forms of mortal men.
The light cuts around my body,
Revealing evidence of times
Before my presence.
It fascinates.
Or am i ghosts?
Without a revelation
Walking a moving line.
And when the comatose
Is finite i will remember
Important details,
Or will nonsense
Be my explanation?
All out lives are lies,
And when it's conscious,
We'll be dead.
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