Black Death
Black Death
Black looks like death hiding in the shadows.
Black smells like the rotting flesh he keeps close.
The touch of Black is like knifes cutting you apart.
Black sounds like the bloody screams of people.
Black taste like ashes of his past victims.
Black feels like an empty pit controlling me.
By Erin Kephart
Black looks like death hiding in the shadows.
Black smells like the rotting flesh he keeps close.
The touch of Black is like knifes cutting you apart.
Black sounds like the bloody screams of people.
Black taste like ashes of his past victims.
Black feels like an empty pit controlling me.
By Erin Kephart
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