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[inspired by the work of Edgar Allen Poe] [I. Red Death] It was a time when life was short Long devastated was the land Never had there ever been A more fatal plague against all man Pungent pain, sudden faintness Your energy begins to fade As you stand there somewhat daunted You know 'Red Death' is on it's way Blood, blood, blood and more blood Profuse bleeding at the pores You watch your blood slowly sizzle As your flesh dissolves some more Screams of anguish, blood still flowing Pollutes the ground a rotten red Your time has come, you must meet your maker As you slip into the valley of the shadow of death [II. The Prince's Master Plan] All men feared this great disaster But the valiant Prince had the only answer For his majesty and his chosen ones The inception of new life would free them of contagion Magnificent it was this structure of seclusion Surrounded by these walls so massive yet elusive The gates were welded shut impervious to those forsaken Never letting go of the souls that were taken There was beauty, there was wine Ambrosia and sweet nectar Flowing from within All appliances of pleasure Inside the Master-Plan Providing noble lunacy Outside the palace gates 'Red Death' just sits and waits for you [Narration:] It was toward the close of the fifth or sixth month of his seclusion, and while the pestilence raged most furiously abroad, that the Prince Prospreo entertained his thousand friends at a masked ball of the most unusual magnificence... Edgar Allen Poe (1809-1849) [III. The Masquerade including the Twelfth Hour and Return of the Red Death] Bizzare it was seven chambers Held this jubilee except for one It stood alone, the western wing Where no one shared it's offerings Blood tinted panes, brazier or fire Projects it's rays A clock stands tall, ominous It warns of death so soon to be So loud, so deep the guests pay heed The dissonant ring of ebony The crowd goes pale as darkness Shrouds the maskers in their revelry Then as the echos ceased A light laughter spread through the assembly And all is well Until the next chiming of old ebony The ebony clock struck the twelfth hour And everyting ceased as the revellers cowered The pendulum swings all still, all silent Save the voice of old ebony As the last chime died and sunk into silence Soon it was felt a presence so strange Tall and gaunt who is this masked figure Shrouded in habiliments of the grave? His blood splattered mask bore a striking resemblence The countenance of a rigid corpse He stalked to and fro in a slow, solemn movement Enraging 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 lost As the intruder make his way unimpeded An anon he went on trugged through each chamber Where the music once swelled and the dreams lived on and on The prince in pursuit dagger drawn aloft As the figure retreats to the seventh chamber He suddenly turns, a piercing sharp cry Now the Prince lay dead in the hall of the velvet... Then summoning the wild courage of despair, A throng of revellers at once threw themselves Into the black apartment, and seizing the mummer, Whose tall dark figure stood erect and motionless Within the shadow of the ebony clock, gasped In unutterable horror at finding the grave Cerements and corpse-like mask, which they Handled with so violent a rudeness, untenated By any tangible form. And now was acknowlegded the presence Of the Red Death. He had come as a thief In the night and one by one droppd the revellers In 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 out With that the last of the gay. And the flames of the tripods expired. And Darkness And Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over all... [Edgar Allen Poe (1809-1849)]

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