||[Jul. 18th, 2014|10:53 pm]
As we move through the ghosts are falling smashed to bits.|
A project dismantled and in a way it feels wrong.
if only I had those ghosts to remind me, as I drive through of the fires I have seen.
The fires set burning, and burning.
The fires still burn.
The ghosts still live.
They in the shadows and perceptible on the edge of the eye.
Until the spectrum dismantled and the dynamics left.
The ghosts they still remain.
Invisible life leaving worlds left a rubble.
Sundered among a hundred million suns and still counting even as they become void black.
The end of the line, the last infrared dying out of an event horizon.
The ghosts in my heart still burning ghost fire.
I ghost, alive, but walking between worlds.
Walking ever out in the world of life and ghost.
Dreams and realities.
Songs still unsung in codex's still unwritten.
Visages in mirrors unseen as specters spectate, and speculate on probability spaces exploding ever outward even as they collapse.