May 24, 2011
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Black is midnight with no moon, walking alone in the timber clearing your mind; leaves rustling behind you.

Black is feeling like you're being watched; every step, you're walking faster.

Black is being chased, not knowing what's ahead of you; a fall making you dizzy.

Black is the taste of blood running down your face.

Black is the sound of whispers and silence before the screaming.

Black is the smell of rotting and burning flesh of those whom were brutally murdered before you.

Black is...

.....its Death.....

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