As the moon shines through the glass I lay alone.
I sometimes watch to see the clouds pass...
Im the one setting in the back of the bus
Im the one who never says a word...
Bodies did leave that dark alley way as the crime...
Horrifying screams from the long forgotten area...
Choosing fiction from reality is but a dangerous...
A dream from which you will not wake...
Twisting and turning
Spindly black...
Darkness is my home
loneliness my secret pain...
Through a paintbrush, a story is told
With each stroke and each touch...
My hand around your mouth
as you gasp for air...
She stares out the window
and awaits for his return...
Youre a killer in the night
But an angel in the light...
His eyes hold me captive
his mind plays with mine...
Reaching this deprived city,
On the outskirts I stand...