Masque of Red Death

based on a short story

The Masque of Red Death

 

Gorgeous masquerade.

Hidden visages entice

Infatuation

In all but the onyx room

With crimson lighting.

Few dare to enter,

Afraid of cryptic horrors

Lurking deep inside.

At midnights chiming,

A masked shade adorned by blood

Stood erect, gazing --

A stiff cadaver,

A man, a funeral shroud

Engulfed in Red Death.

Fear clouds the group mind

And Red Death strolls through the halls.

It raises its gaze.

Royalty drops cold.

People surge, bent on justice,

To reveal no man

But the disease itself.

Dread blankets carousing men

While death seizes them.

A rush of wind, the disease

Fades in oblivion.

Reviews

[Marie]

I read the short story. You did good work with it.