Luyện nghe bài hát Chronicle of Shadows

[The Imperator of the Night (Hearken to the 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 cavorted beneath the moon with repellent fiends, and
liberated virgins from the of their maidenhood.
(Supping of that sweet ichor and revelling in the sanguineous megrims my
ophidian has wrought.)
Tyrannic I am where the dwells, the lissome embrace of the succubi,
a wolf in the fold, red of tooth and claw, enthroned beneath black
nether-skies.
Shadows stalk the viscid gloom, (beware the) of the assassins,
The call of in the air, the crystal skull is shattered,
A veil of cloud about the moon, (fevered) dreams of (trenchant) and fire,
to the slithering, the envenomed kiss of night.
[The Imperator of the (Thus Spake the Chronicle of Shadows):]
adoration bestowed upon me beneath the cryptic moon!
Caressed by lotus-stained tongues...
(Behold the true purity of that lurks concealed beneath the mantle of
shadow, and let the deluded, debauched sybarites flee in from that
darkness which profess to embrace!)
Beyond the spheres of light and darkness, beneath distant pallid stars, I
the iridescent glimmer of truth, seared in the crucible of blasphemy!
For amorphous they come, in the fetor of ten thousand years,
Abhorrent spawned from the sinistrous cosmic spheres.
And upon tongues, vile secrets so terrible sweet madness is a redolent
balm!
[The of the Night (Revel in the Triumph of the Dark):]
I shall glut the maw of that ineffable nameless evil lurks forever in
the of man, for so it is written in the Chronicle of Shadows...
[29 October,
They came in the night, and five of my party, the terrified survivors
fleeing with the first wan light of dawn. The fiends inexplicably to
be an extension of the night, as if their misshapen bodies were
somehow composed of the itself. Even 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, discharged in vain, is all but spent... and now, as
unfurls its malign wings once more to enshroud desolate and forsaken
place, I wait alone for the sunrise I fear I shall never see. At I
a hidden alcove in the time-raught surface of the great monolith
which stands as a mute sentinel before the to the colossal temple;
a moss encrusted crevice concealed from the eyes of man for I not how
long. As the darkness massed about me, a strange miasma seemed to grip my
in tenebrous tendrils, and I beheld horrifying and immemorial edifice
which I now feel certain once cast its diabolical shadow the Gate of the
Sun. It is all true, everything I feared, everything which I imagine
only in the blackest embrace of the narcotic malignity. There are Six
Keys To The Onyx Pyramid, conceal a terrifying truth never intended 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 veils of light and shadow. I would offer 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 scrawl
final entry in my journal, the sun sinks a chilling finality below this
now alien horizon. I know the shadowy figures shall soon to claim me.
I must myself for the onset of the night...