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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Arts >> ID #105616 |
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Black is the color of the darkest night,
The void that's left from the dying light. Black is the soul that doesn't bleed, The mind that won't stop, The heart that won't need. It's the color we see when the reapers nears, It's the color of death; the color we fear. From black we are born, into the light, And to black we return, at the end of the fight.
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