Luyện nghe bài hát Chronicle of Shadows

[The Imperator of the (Hearken to the Attestation of the Sinistrous):]
For it is the iniquity of man which compels him to tenebrous gates,
seeking opiate dreams and the embrace of oblivion...
Know that I have cavorted beneath the horned moon with fiends, and
liberated virgins from the of their maidenhood.
(Supping of that sweet ichor and revelling in the sanguineous megrims my
tongue has wrought.)
Tyrannic I am where the Serpent dwells, the embrace of the succubi,
a wolf in the fold, red of tooth and claw, enthroned beneath black
nether-skies.
Shadows stalk the gloom, (beware the) blades of the assassins,
The call of in the air, the crystal skull is shattered,
A veil of cloud about the moon, (fevered) of (trenchant) steel and fire,
Hearken to the slithering, the kiss of night.
[The Imperator of the (Thus Spake the Chronicle of Shadows):]
Such adoration upon me beneath the cryptic moon!
Caressed by ululant tongues...
(Behold the true purity of that which concealed beneath the mantle of
shadow, and let the deluded, debauched sybarites flee in terror from
darkness which profess to embrace!)
the spheres of light and darkness, beneath distant pallid stars, I bring
the iridescent glimmer of forbidden truth, in the crucible of blasphemy!
For amorphous they come, steeped in the fetor of ten years,
Abhorrent colossi spawned from the cosmic spheres.
And upon tongues, vile secrets so terrible 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 nameless evil lurks forever in
the soul of man, for so it is in the Chronicle of Shadows...
[29 October,
They came in the night, and butchered five of my party, the survivors
fleeing with the first wan light of dawn. The fiends inexplicably to
be an extension of the night, as if their bodies were actually
somehow composed of the darkness itself. Even as I gazed at them,
I found I not truly focus on their stygian forms... their bodies
appearing to and shift like the ripples of a heat-haze upon an arid
plain. My ammunition, discharged in vain, is all but spent... and now, as
unfurls its malign wings once more to this desolate and forsaken
place, I alone for the sunrise I fear I shall never see. At dusk I
discovered a alcove in the time-raught surface of the great monolith
stands as a mute sentinel before the entrance to the colossal temple;
a moss encrusted crevice concealed the eyes of man for I know not how
long. As the darkness massed about me, a strange miasma to grip my mind
in tenebrous tendrils, and I beheld horrifying and immemorial edifice
which I now feel once cast its diabolical shadow upon the Gate of the
Sun. It is all true, everything I feared, everything which I imagine
in the blackest embrace of the most narcotic malignity. There are Six
Keys To The Onyx Pyramid, which conceal a terrifying truth never to
be by the woefully fragile mind of Man. I now pray that no unfortunate
soul ever again as close as I to those cryptic axioms which lie ever
in wait between the incorporeal veils of light and shadow. I would up a
to the divinity which once I worshipped, but I know it would 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 shall soon return to claim me.
I must fortify myself for the of the night...