Only few experienced that smile
Which hides hurted patches for a while
Everyday crying deep inside the attic
Wishing it would stop
Wanted to be the voice of my scared crowd
But was afraid of that dark proud
Last thing stuck in my brian
Was tracing my pain
The darkest hour seems to be creepy
And the wound was thirsty deeply
There was no reason to worry
But that hint was wrong
Haunted vision was only reflecting
By the path of midnight song.