Fear in the Margins

With silent dread beneath the sky, I tell the truth; I do not lie. In mortal coil, I often ask, What lies beyond this fragile mask? The clock ticks on, a steady beat, Uncertain path below my feet— Uncertain path below my feet... For those who have wandered, This way before, Who now are gone, are here no more, Do they laugh or cry or sleep somewhere? Just gone— To who knows where?