Luyện nghe bài hát Masque Of The Red Death

(inspired by the of Edgar Allen Poe)

I. Red
It was a time when life was
Long was the land
Never had ever been
A more plague against all man
Pungent pain, sudden
Your energy begins to
As you stand there somewhat
You know 'Red is on it's way
Blood, blood, blood and blood
bleeding at the pores
You watch your blood slowly
As flesh dissolves some more
Screams of anguish, blood flowing
the ground a rotten red
Your has come, you must meet your maker
As you into the valley of the shadow of death

II. The Prince's Plan
All men this great disaster
But the valiant Prince had the answer
For his majesty and his ones
The of new life would free them of contagion
Magnificent it was this of seclusion
Surrounded by these so massive yet elusive
The gates welded shut impervious to those forsaken
Never go of the souls that were taken
was beauty, there was wine
Ambrosia and sweet
Flowing from
All appliances of
Inside the
Providing lunacy
Outside the gates
'Red Death' sits and waits for you

It was the close of the fifth or
sixth of his seclusion, and while the
pestilence raged furiously abroad, that
the Prince Prospreo entertained his
friends at a masked ball of the unusual
magnificence... Edgar Poe (1809-1849)

III. The Masquerade the Twelfth Hour and Return of the Red Death
it was seven chambers
Held this except for one
It alone, the western wing
Where no one shared offerings
Blood panes, brazier or fire
it's rays
A clock stands tall,
It warns of so soon to be
So loud, so the guests pay heed
The ring of ebony
The crowd pale as darkness
Shrouds the maskers in their
as the echos ceased
A light spread through the assembly
And all is
Until the next chiming of old

The ebony clock the twelfth hour
And ceased as the revellers cowered
The pendulum all still, all silent
Save the voice of old
As the last chime died and sunk into
it was felt a presence so strange
Tall and gaunt who is masked figure
Shrouded in habiliments of the
His blood mask bore a striking resemblence
The countenance of a corpse
He stalked to and fro in a slow, movement
Enraging the Duke, invasion of his
'Seize him, unmask him, ' commanded the
'Who dares insult us with this mockery?
You'll at sunrise! '
Not a person forth it seemed like all was lost
As the make his way unimpeded
An anon he went on through each chamber
Where the music once swelled and the lived on and on
The prince in pursuit dagger drawn
As the figure retreats to the chamber
He suddenly turns, a piercing cry
Now the lay dead in the hall of the velvet...
Then the wild courage of despair,
A throng of revellers at once themselves
the black apartment, and seizing the mummer,
Whose tall dark figure erect and motionless
Within the shadow of the ebony clock,
In horror at finding the grave
and corpse-like mask, which they
Handled with so a rudeness, untenated
By any form.
And now was the presence
Of the Red Death. He had as a thief
In the and one by one droppd the revellers
In the blood-bedewed of their revel,
And each in the despairing posture of his fall.
As the of the ebony clock went out
With that the of the gay.
And the flames of the tripods expired. And
And and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over all...
Allen Poe (1809-1849)