Crimson Glory

Midnight tolls on the clock downstairs
A reminding voice inside my head that does not care
His rapture keeps me waiting for a life behind the attic door
Footsteps on the stairs...no one there...
I watch my shadow fade to gray
From the warmth of daylights charm
I cower, turn and run away
From a light so bright and warm
With my fading health
I start to cry and cut myself
To watch the blood look silver
In the blessing of the moon...
I sit here in my rocking chair
They've come again to tie me down and wash my hair
Faceless figures on the wall
Haunt me 'til the morning dawn