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The Dark Ones

Do you hear them calling you? An eerie shriek from behind the trees.

Do you see them coming for you? Thirteen forms in the fog dressed in robes of black.

Do you smell their scent right beside you? The blood/ ashes/ and roses on their robes.

Do you feel them on you? The chill of their lifeless fingers around your neck.

Do you taste them in you? The crimson warmth of blood/ the gray destruction of ash/ the black pedals of the dying rose.

I heard them/ Saw them/ Smelled them/ Felt them/ Tasted them. Then there was fear.

Now all that’s left/ Is an everlasting chill/ Known as death.

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