Luyện nghe bài hát Angels Of Madness

In full flight from reality, the misunderstood angels of dwell,
Taken with delusions that can only be seen by them, they share.
All things by the walls of conformity, taking on patterns and color,
We lay down, exhausted, drawing breath from unseen everywhere.

The beat poet took a box from his bed, half-propped on one elbow,
He watched intrigue as I drew life from his perceptions, scrawled out,
In pencil, he portrayed life clearly than Ive ever seen it before.
Unmasked, the pain and pleasure of the life of this loser, so brazenly rare.

I closed my eyes and this moment in time.
The words and cadence, and un-rhymed,
it plainer and clearer than excerpts, refined.

After meeting for at a local caf, I took him to see my new dwelling.
Once there, I took out my list of lovers to vex, lighting the corner fire,
Reciting an incantation Id made up right then and his expression
The corners of his mouth turned up, his eyes danced with a fear he knew.

We looked into each others in silence, and he shared in my torment.
Like the night I casually read his ranting for hours,
That the sharing of our was a mutual purging and cleansing
We released each others imprisoned emotions, all laid and bare.

The poet nodded, as if, with a dare and a snare
He took my challenge, and we this, aware
Of our connectivity those angels of madness, everywhere.