Darkness. Thick darkness, like blood coagulating over a deadly wound. Heavy darkness, like a shroud, covers the body of logic. Immense darkness spread over the expanse of human common sense. Darkness in sunless prison cells and in the hearts of men; darkness in caves and in the lives of beasts, and beasts dressed in human skin. Darkness in the abyss of the unknown, in the abyss of death and darkness over it, where undoubtedly man stood by his effort to fool the crafty Hades or the cruel God of those days when man imprisoned man for his political affiliations, or for his foolishness to be a man in the days of the condors preying and feeding on carcasses and dead flesh. Such was the darkness spread over Hellas during the years of dictatorship. Darkness in the psyches of men holding other men prisoners, darkness in the psyches of men killing other men because they have the means, darkness, queen of life, except for those rare glints of light spreading their benevolent rays over lost battles, or lost lovers, or lost children who grew too old too soon.