Giving Up the Ghost

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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