The Phasing
There is a ghost The ground far away Yet the host is here Unable to touch Watching from afar Seeing the actions Not in control of much Anything...
Sense of helplessness lingering Yet calm “Soon I may see my own palms Through my own eyes But not right now The whole world feels like lies Not in a mischievous way But in a tedious fake way”
The ghost sees a lake That's all Waiting to lie awake “How long must I stay asleep”
The host sees a lake His words Are not his own Actions remain predestined And emotions continue to lessen
The machine is rogue