Luyện nghe bài hát Chronicle of Shadows

[The Imperator of the (Hearken to the Attestation of the Sinistrous):]
For it is the of man which compels him to these tenebrous gates,
seeking opiate dreams and the embrace of oblivion...
Know that I have beneath the horned moon with repellent fiends, and
liberated virgins from the of their maidenhood.
(Supping deep of that sweet and revelling in the sanguineous megrims my
ophidian 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 the viscid gloom, (beware the) blades of the assassins,
The call of Ul-Yeh in the air, the skull is shattered,
A veil of cloud about the moon, (fevered) dreams of (trenchant) and fire,
Hearken to the slithering, the envenomed 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 purity of that which lurks concealed beneath the mantle of
shadow, and let the deluded, sybarites flee in terror from that
which they profess to embrace!)
Beyond the of light and darkness, beneath distant pallid stars, I bring
the iridescent of forbidden 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 terrible sweet is a redolent
balm!
[The Imperator of the Night (Revel in the 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,
came in the night, and butchered five 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 their misshapen were actually
somehow of the darkness itself. Even as I gazed directly at them,
I I could not truly focus on their stygian forms... their bodies
to shimmer and shift like the ripples of a heat-haze 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
which 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 that and immemorial edifice
which I now certain once cast its diabolical shadow upon the Gate of the
Sun. It is all true, everything I feared, everything I dared imagine
only in the embrace of the most narcotic malignity. There are Six
Keys To The Pyramid, which conceal a terrifying truth never intended to
be grasped by the woefully fragile mind of Man. I now pray no unfortunate
soul again stumbles 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
prayer to the divinity which once I worshipped, but I know it would
emptily through the abyssal reaches of the unheeding cosmos. As I this
final in my journal, the sun sinks with a chilling finality below this
now alien horizon. I know the shadowy figures shall soon to claim me.
I fortify myself for the onset of the night...