Luyện nghe bài hát Masque Of The Red Death

(inspired by the work of Allen Poe)

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

II. The Prince's Master
All men feared great disaster
But the valiant Prince had the answer
For his majesty and his chosen
The inception of new life would them of contagion
Magnificent it was structure of seclusion
Surrounded by these walls so massive yet
The were welded shut impervious to those forsaken
Never letting go of the souls were taken
There was beauty, was wine
Ambrosia and nectar
Flowing from
All appliances of
the Master-Plan
Providing noble
Outside the gates
Death' just sits and waits for you

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

III. The Masquerade including the Twelfth Hour and Return of the Red
it was seven chambers
Held this jubilee for one
It stood alone, the wing
no one shared it's offerings
Blood tinted panes, brazier or
Projects it's
A clock stands tall,
It warns of death so to be
So loud, so deep the pay heed
The dissonant ring of
The goes pale as darkness
Shrouds the maskers in their
Then as the echos
A light laughter through the assembly
And all is
the next chiming of old ebony

The clock struck the twelfth hour
And everyting as the revellers cowered
The pendulum swings all still, all
Save the of old ebony
As the last chime died and into silence
Soon it was felt a so strange
and gaunt who is this masked figure
Shrouded in habiliments of the
His blood splattered mask bore a resemblence
The countenance of a rigid
He stalked to and fro in a slow, movement
Enraging the Duke, invasion of his
'Seize him, unmask him, ' commanded the
dares insult us with this blasphemous mockery?
You'll at sunrise! '
Not a came forth it seemed like all was lost
As the make his way unimpeded
An anon he went on through each chamber
Where the music swelled and the dreams lived on and on
The prince in dagger drawn aloft
As the figure retreats to the seventh
He suddenly turns, a sharp cry
Now the Prince lay dead in the of the velvet...
summoning the wild courage of despair,
A of revellers at once threw themselves
Into the apartment, and seizing the mummer,
Whose tall dark figure erect and motionless
Within the shadow of the clock, gasped
In unutterable horror at the grave
Cerements and corpse-like mask, which
Handled so violent a rudeness, untenated
By any form.
And now was acknowlegded the
Of the Red Death. He had as a thief
In the night and one by one 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 expired. And Darkness
And and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over all...
Allen Poe (1809-1849)