Luyện nghe bài hát Chronicle of Shadows

[The of the Night (Hearken to the Attestation of the Sinistrous):]
For it is the iniquity of man which compels him to tenebrous gates,
opiate dreams and the alluring embrace of oblivion...
Know that I have cavorted beneath the horned moon with fiends, and
liberated from the burden of their maidenhood.
(Supping deep of that ichor and revelling in the sanguineous megrims my
ophidian has wrought.)
Tyrannic I am the Serpent dwells, the lissome embrace of the succubi,
Like a wolf in the fold, red of tooth and claw, enthroned black
nether-skies.
Shadows stalk the viscid gloom, (beware the) of the assassins,
The of Ul-Yeh in the air, the crystal skull is shattered,
A veil of cloud about the moon, (fevered) dreams of (trenchant) and fire,
Hearken to the slithering, the kiss of night.
[The Imperator of the Night (Thus the Chronicle of Shadows):]
adoration bestowed upon me beneath the cryptic moon!
Caressed by lotus-stained tongues...
(Behold the purity of that which lurks concealed beneath the mantle of
shadow, and let the deluded, debauched sybarites in terror from that
which they profess to embrace!)
Beyond the spheres of light and darkness, beneath pallid stars, I bring
the iridescent glimmer of truth, seared in the crucible of blasphemy!
For amorphous they come, steeped in the fetor of ten years,
Abhorrent colossi spawned the sinistrous cosmic spheres.
And upon their tongues, vile secrets so sweet madness is a redolent
balm!
[The Imperator of the (Revel in the Triumph of the Dark):]
I shall glut the maw of that ineffable evil which lurks forever in
the soul of man, for so it is written in the of Shadows...
[29 October,
They came in the night, and butchered of my party, the terrified survivors
fleeing with the first wan light of dawn. The fiends seemed to
be an extension of the night, as if misshapen bodies were actually
somehow composed of the darkness itself. as I gazed directly at them,
I I could not truly focus on their stygian forms... their bodies
appearing to shimmer and shift like the ripples of a upon an arid
plain. My ammunition, in vain, is all but spent... and now, as night
unfurls its malign once more to enshroud this desolate and forsaken
place, I wait for the sunrise I fear I shall never see. At dusk I
discovered a hidden alcove in the time-raught of the great monolith
stands as a mute sentinel before the entrance to the colossal temple;
a moss encrusted concealed from the eyes of man for I know not how
long. As the darkness massed about me, a strange seemed to grip my mind
in tendrils, and I beheld that horrifying and immemorial edifice
which I now feel certain once cast its shadow upon the Gate of the
Sun. It is all true, everything I feared, everything I dared imagine
only in the blackest embrace of the narcotic malignity. There are Six
Keys To The Onyx Pyramid, which conceal a truth never intended to
be by the woefully fragile mind of Man. I now pray that no unfortunate
soul ever again stumbles as close as I to cryptic axioms which lie ever
in wait between the incorporeal veils of and shadow. I would offer up a
prayer to the divinity which once I worshipped, but I know it echo
emptily through the abyssal reaches of the unheeding cosmos. As I scrawl
final entry in my journal, the sun sinks with a chilling finality this
now alien horizon. I know the shadowy figures shall soon to claim me.
I must myself for the onset of the night...