Hades: Masque of the red death

It was a time when life was shortLong devastated was the landNever had there ever beenA more fatal plague against all manPungent pain, sudden faintnessYour energy begins to fadeAs you stand there somewhat dauntedYou know 'Red Death' is on it's wayBlood, blood, blood and more bloodProfuse bleeding at the poresYou watch your blood slowly sizzleAs your flesh dissolves some moreScreams of anguish, blood still flowingPollutes the ground a rotten redYour time has come, you must meet your makerAs you slip into the valley of the shadow of death[II. The Prince's Master Plan]All men feared this great disasterBut the valiant Prince had the only answerFor his majesty and his chosen onesThe inception of new life would free them of contagionMagnificent it was this structure of seclusionSurrounded by these walls so massive yet elusiveThe gates were welded shut impervious to those forsakenNever letting go of the souls that were takenThere was beauty, there was wineAmbrosia and sweet nectarFlowing from withinAll appliances of pleasureInside the Master-PlanProviding noble lunacyOutside the palace gates'Red Death' just sits and waits for you[Narration:]It was toward the close of the fifth orsixth month of his seclusion, and while thepestilence raged most furiously abroad, thatthe Prince Prospreo entertained his thousandfriends at a masked ball of the most unusualmagnificence... Edgar Allen Poe (1809-1849)[III. The Masquerade including the Twelfth Hour and Return of the Red Death]Bizzare it was seven chambersHeld this jubilee except for oneIt stood alone, the western wingWhere no one shared it's offeringsBlood tinted panes, brazier or fireProjects it's raysA clock stands tall, ominousIt warns of death so soon to beSo loud, so deep the guests pay heedThe dissonant ring of ebonyThe crowd goes pale as darknessShrouds the maskers in their revelryThen as the echos ceasdeA light laughter spread through the assemblyAnd all is wellUntil the next chiming of old ebonyThe ebony clock struck the twelfth hourAnd everyting ceased as the revellers coweredThe pendulum swings all still, all silentSave the voice of old ebonyAs the last chime died and sunk into silenceSoon it was felt a presence so strangeTall and gaunt who is this masked figureShrouded in habiliments of the grave?His blood splattered mask bore a striking resemblenceThe countenance of a rigid corpseHe stalked to and fro in a slow, solemn movementEnraging the Duke, invasion of his sanctuary'Seize him, unmask him, ' commanded the prince'Who dares insult us with this blasphemous mockery?You'll hang at sunrise! 'Not a person came forth it seemed like all was lostAs the intruder make his way unimpededAn anon he went on trugged through each chamberWhere the music once swelled and the dreams lived on and onThe prince in pursuit dagger drawn aloftAs the figure retreats to the seventh chamberHe suddenly turns, a piercing sharp cryNow the Prince lay dead in the hall of the velvet...Then summoning the wild courage of despair,A throng of revellers at once threw themselvesInto the black apartment, and seizing the mummer,Whose tall dark figure stood erect and motionlessWithin the shadow of the ebony clock, gaspedIn unutterable horror at finding the graveCerements and corpse-like mask, which theyHandled with so violent a rudeness, untenatedBy any tangible form.And now was acknowlegded the presenceOf the Red Death. He had come as a thiefIn the night and one by one droppd the revellersIn the blood-bedewed halls of their revel,And died each in the despairing posture of his fall.As the life of the ebony clock went outWith that the last of the gay.And the flames of the tripods expired. And DarknessAnd Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over all...