🎵 Luyện Nghe Bài Hát: Theatre of Tragedy - Cassandra

 Cassandra
 
 He gave to her, yet tenfold claim'd  return -
 She hath no life but the one he for her 
 Proffer'd to her his wauking heart -  turn'd it down,
 Riposted  a tell-tale lore of lies and scorn.
 
 Prophetess or 
  her parle of truth:
 "I ken to-morrow - refell me if  can!",
 Yet  kiss and breath - Apollo's bane -
 Sëer of  future, not of twain,
 "Sicker!",  Cassandra.
 
 Still, is she lief and  in his eyne, a sight divine? -
 A mistress fuell'd by his prest haughtiness 
 If  did grant, wherefore then did he not foresee,
 Belike egal as it to him  be?!
 
  or fond?,
 Tho' her parle  truth:
 "I ken to-morrow - refell me  ye can!",
 Yet the kiss and breath  Apollo's bane -
 Sëer of the  not of twain,
  quoth Cassandra.
 
 'Or was he an  being,
 'Or was he weening - alack nay 
  naysay' raught his heart,
 Her daffing was the grave of  hope -
 She belied  own words,
 He thought her life,  moreo'er scourge,
  held him august, yet wee;
  left her ne'er without his heart.