CRIMSON

the telephone rings and the knife begins to tear into the skin

the voice slowly speaks not knowing the pain it is causing

a sin is about to take place, and no one will even see a trace

as she speaks clearer on her views, he's troubled; it's like fuel

to add to the fire with the blaze rising higher.

the voice speaks further as the crimson becomes brighter on the skin

it was once dark and thick, now bright and thin.

groaning from anger as her voice heightens, bringing out the evil within

the knife cuts deeper and it all starts to flow; pools of red

like he had once envisioned himself to go.

the phone falls to the floor....

silence

worried; there is a knock at the door and no answer

scared that this will be the last time she see's him

wondering if she should even enter; if the sinner is plastered

to the floor - lying in a pool of crimson is the vision

know that this will take over your dream realm

haunting visions of crimson: it's not just a color anymore