Staring at a pitch black ceiling,
Wondering
If i risk and lose it all,
Such eerie feeling
I can no longer bleed my mind
The blood has run, no sign of cure
The red has splattered, the passion painted the shore
It was beautiful, but it was over
I searched within the chamber for clues
I found myself trapped in a prison blue
But nonetheless the deadline is due, im done masking the face. The screw has loosened through
I tried to write a million letter
I tried to write a thousand words
But all there really is, are a bunch of cover ups to disguise the emptiness of an insomiac mind roaming inside the door of the witching hours.