• The black rose blooms in the light of the fullmoon as the chaos rus by the black rose still remains untouched by the hands of the the liveing, standing alone in the world time moves by. The sounds of the dead echo off the walls of the mind as deaths hand moves swift pulling the rose out of the ground. walking, stalking, waiting for the moment to end the human life.Some beg ,outhers ask but life has to end. With one movement death sets the rose on my lap ... he holds his hand out and i reach up and take it. I was to die but i lived and became what i am to day.