Sometimes I’m referred to as sleek and sometimes as shiny. Sometimes I can be drab and dull. I’ve been called dusky as the night or murky as the depths of the ocean.
If I were a mood, I would be considered gloomy. If I were a thought, I would be obscure. Midnight, pitch, ebony and inky are all words used to describe me. Obsidian spires of onyx were created and worshiped by ancient people. I am somber, sooty, swarthy and stygian. I am the color most frequently sported at funerals.
A raven sports plumage as dark as coal and the starless sky throws as sinister blanket of darkness across the face of the earth. If you haven’t figured out what color I am by now, I am black.
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