This poem is mine,totally inspired by the homonymous story of the great,gothic and haunting American author with the misty history,Edgar Allan Poe

...and from the Red death of the Opera Ghost...

Inspire yourselves!

P. is my first fanfiction opus,and i did it with a lot of assessment and love many years tough to it needed a lot of bravery to come to this today,as strange as it seems.

Please,be always be:).Ι'm not from USA or UK so English is not my native language,and this poem,beside all my love to this,is quite simple,and i have make some ,be kind;)

THE MASQUE OF RED DEATH

Beware when all is luminous,

beware when all is perfectly gorgeous,

outside the dark is near,

and the cold wind blows heavily,

so you can't hear,

the groans and the tears from outside

the merry atmosphere.

Inside the joy of humans beating

into the heart of a dance of madness,

like lunatical butterflies the people

lost in masks,

made in happiness and sadness,

behind of them.

Because they can't handle them.

So they hide,

and leave the good with the evil

and the cheer with the pain around to collide,

like stars which has come their time.

life is short and the feelings

a natural wrong.

Who says that nature is perfect,

life is fair and so its beings?

Romantic fool you continue to believing.

Soul is one of the childish fantasies,

and the human resistances

become less and less

with the chances.

Don't spend them only to a conscience

that you can't see and admire,

or to a heart that's useless and betrays you

when comes your time.

Enjoy yourself now that you're alive,

and let the others peacefully die.

The clock is ticking,

The time comes and goes,

Suddenly something has change into the room

and the eternal music with its undying spirit die,

Men and women become statues,

and becoming smaller and smaller shadows in walls,

watching the doom.

Yes,you can see.

Your vision is back,but not and the balance of your mind.

Your eyes,your soul freezing here.

A presence from hell is standing high,

dominates with a unworldly power the audience

at his feet,

and he's guiding the horror of his silence around you this night.

It's true.

The Red Death is here tonight.

You can't stare at him,but you know that always

he'll stare at you.

Because you won't admit,

but he knows you better than you do,

and he sees deeper in you than your reflexion,

inside the mirror that you see through.

He is your unspoken past,

your uncontrolled present

and your unbelievable future.

He's the hideous side of justice

when we all die,

the cruel panishment for our own sins

that lives inside of our most horrible dreams,

when death has the reins,

and life was only a running journey,

elusive and ardent

like a flame.

He remembers us the humanity before the immortality.

The lights with no warning blow out

and darkness falls everywhere,

every element of life is ending with you now,

and you're leaving your last breath

with no powers to cry out.

With your last gaze to be in the bloody master

with no mercy.

The Red death within the mask of the deads

and the tragic fate and hate inside him

like Hamlet

before his meeting with the boatman

for the depths of the Kingdom of Hades and Persephone,

is here tonight.

and he always be,

into the shadows of the nightime.