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.