Tuesday, 2 November 2010


It was a dark and moody Dartmoor last Sunday, the moor was shrouded in mist and
drizzle and only the bravest warrior would venture 'up top' where they would be under the
watchful eyes of the spirits and demons of all Hallow's eve that were lurking on the
granite tors and windswept open spaces....waiting, just waiting to catch the weary
and unsuspecting traveller off guard where they would be torn from the comfort and
safety of our world and into eternal damnation of burning torment where their memory
would be but a shadow on the wind that cries "remember me...remember me, for now my
soul is one with the land and my memory is but the passing clouds, my body is the
sodden earth and my breath still whispers.....remember me, for now I am gone"

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