There's a fear in the darkness that can't be named

A cry in the night blending with the wind

The whispers and gasps of a dying child

The cries of agony by the ones being tried

All heard on the bared dark wind

Through this howling and fearful night.

Or is it all in my head?

Did that door just really close?

Did that shadow of the Rose

Truly creep and wither over?

Or is this a joke; maybe it's a clover?

Are those voices that I hear?

Or are they my lonely mind's true fear?

Are they the same? Is it my mind?

Are these the tricks that come with time?

Closed off here in the dark corner

How can I tell which is the coroner?

Are those people that I see?

Or is it more of my sight's parody?

Are these shadows in the night

Going to make me die tonight?

Are those the gasps of dying souls

Or is it the wind creeping through the holes

Of this dark and dreary wall?

Are those knives headed for me, standing tall?

Are those steady drips I hear

The seeping away of blood from the near

Invisible people that I see?

Or is it once more time's parody?

As I sit withered with time

I ponder if something's wrong in my mind

Am I insane? Is this true?

Am I really black and blue?

Wherever did my bruises come from?

Are these cuts formed by my lonesome

Self? But how can that be?

There's nobody else that I can see

Is this what I can do to me?

Is this what's become of me?

Or is it all in my mind.?