Crestfallen,
The heart begins to deteriorate. Leaving behind only minute palpitations that tell the story of the current fall. A single sputter gasping out of synchronicity causes a spastic flutter of images past; facades in multitude. Vanish. Leaving the heart sinking in growing desperation, deprived of that which lends reality to its existence...

"The fact or state of living or having objective reality"

Were we ever even alive?