The Celebration Of Despair And Woe (Demo 2018)

by Tragedy In Hope

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Vile Strings 01:45
Drowned 01:46
Drowned The water seemed so cold, But nothing could stop the boat Of her shattered, naive hope. The girl made a dreary vow that This night she would drown. Filthy scent of musty dew Which Was brought by moist wind Befuddled the weary body, she barely could breathe, A languorous reflection was seen from the river's brink, Vile screams of crows broke her reverie, The pallid beauty listened their deadly melody. She tried to get acquainted With razors blades in a bathroom. Her wrists were obscenely naked And covered with slight wounds. Bloody cuts weren't deep enough, The same was with red love, so Darker thoughts embraced her heart, At last she took off the apathetic mask. Cunning rays of silver moon Licked her graceful face, She went astray in a fancy maze Of these depressive days. She was looking for gray clouds on the starry sky When she heard the deadly song of the vile crows. She drowned, drowned, drowned In the dark, dark, dark Of her heart, heart, heart This deep night, night, night. This sly night Befuddled the weary body, she barely could breathe, A languorous reflection was seen from the river's brink, Vile screams of crows broke her reverie, The pallid beauty listened their deadly melody. So she drowned, drowned, drowned In the dark, dark, dark Of her heart, heart, heart This deep night, night, night She drowned.
The Mistress Of Dark Art The first one in creative spree Was swallowed by a gloom. Erotic, wild fantasies In an empty lonely room. Scarlet strips on frail wrists Were bleeding more and more Before she fell on the dirty floor Dead, forlorn, alone. Graceful lines on dismal pictures Screamed about wet, secret wishes. Naked girls and razor blades, Scenes of her dramatic fate. Beauty of submissive postures, Painting was a pleasant torture, Scattered, elegant costumes, Sweet and bare mannequins. Brushes turned to dust Because of hungry, burning lust And absence of shy blush. Fading, silky shine Of silent, brown eyes Was a sorrowful and ghastly sign Of her lamentable demise. No! That day she died. But, the legacy of thousands pictures will live in people's hearts. Devoured by eternity as the Mistress of dark art. The second one was fooled By entrancing sounds of vile strings Which played on her soul's wounds. Woven in deep corners of her perverted mind Magnificent, dark music aroused the wish to fly. Bewitching melodies Lured her at the dirty roof. Cellos, violins Set the sad, romantic mood. Final, desperate steps Led her towards the tragic end. Strings played notes of farewell and then... and then she fell. Moist air streams Were pinching the pale, tired face As if it was a dream. The fragile body met its grievous fate, But the music she wrote will never die and thus she stayed alive. The third one was obsessed by lofty poetry, But something was amiss. A felling of the slowly growing agony Troubled the young Miss. Secret, guilty pleasure To hang on a long rope. Will her life be as fleeting Same fleeting as a hope? Mysterious magic of her words, To create depressive, charming worlds, Poured in ears like a deadly spell, It turned her life into a hell. Sentences entwined in serpentines Besotted her like sour wine. Paper seemed to be decayed, It was the death embrace. In the darkest hour She couldn't bear grievous thoughts It killed the gentle flower. Without any tears and agonizing fears She wrote the fateful, poignant lines And committed suicide. She was so awful tired From lousy books, from phony looks And histrionical desires, But it was in vain, Because her dear pain Became a home for those who felt The same, who wanted to cut a thread Of their dreary lives, Who wanted to stop crying every lonely night, For those who wanted to learn a sincere smile In spite of the blatant, impudent, vulgar lies. But everything has end, Whether human's life or even death. So maybe it's better to pretend and not to see the truth, For there never were stories of more woe, Than stories of the people who were doomed.
Winter Wind Breath - Look at her, such a whore. - I wish I could stay alone with her. - Speechless can’t say no. - I was saving my virginity for her. - I wonder if she is cold from the inside. - Her white gown must be torn apart by my teeth. - I am horny to death. - I wanna bite her soft lips as she bit the dust. - Let me water her dried up black rose. - I would lick her Venus Mountain. - Do her panties smell like a fresh fallen snow? - I am mesmerized by the acrid lust.
Their Wedding Ceremony Scavengers smell a sugary scent of decay And whisper foul swears over thin body of a comely fair. Elegant curves of a slim maiden waist engendered admires, thousands of swains. Bright flashes, wet lashes, a stone pedestal coated with flakes of bloody red snow. Encompassed by pack of vulturous eyes, they devoured her figure with malevolent smiles. Heavenly beauty was exceedingly rare That even love was beyond to compare, But one day in a crimson twilight Oh, she committed a suicide. Approaching a window in the desolate house With tears on the cheeks she hysterically shouted Then sat in dark corner and started to moan. Fearful thoughts in the lunatic head Caused ominous visions, indescribable dread. Bruises and wounds, soft bitten lips, Incarnadine traces from long leather whip. Vines with sharp spikes crawl to her twee swan neck And black roses sing a grim song for pale death Their fallen petals covered amatory bed, Desired proposal was suddenly made. On their lofty wedding ceremony Church organ played a eerie cacophony. Enamored brides eagerly kissed each other After final tragic words of holy father. In a white silken dress She was forsaken, wretched and breathless. How fleeting was her dreary life, Full of treacheries and beautiful lies. Disillusions and regrets Were her only true friends. Prisoner in a palace of despair Clang of chains, fetters and pain. An orphan in the imperfect world Who wished to be a marvelous bird, To fly in the clear skies, Chimerical dreams, silent shrill screams. Day after day and night after night She sorely fought for sane state of her mind, But unbearable loneliness in four bare walls, Hypocritical masks, theatrical roles, Artificial hearts and empty, cheap talks Turned gorgeous flower into a soulless doll. Depression was a sweet delight, But in the same time a rusty blunt knfie, Which had a lot of dismal hues From coal-black to soft, light-blue And the taste was always bitter, Same as a poisonous philtre. Reflections in a false mirror Were simply ripple in a river. The sun was slowly falling down Its red shine filled a little town She put on her best white silken gown And went to elegiac rout. Mingled emotions tore her from inside She felt people's nasty, malicious sights, But with joy in the voice she mournfully said: - At last, the carnival is coming to it's logical end! And all hesitations have disappeared Only wet traces from poignant tears Envious glance towards future wife: - I prepared white rose, thou would be satisfied. Faceless goddess began to cry, But agreed to be a miserable, charming bride. The fair rushed to a road And started to look for passing by car. One was approaching from somewhere far. She took last deep breath And jumped under wheels, Instantaneous death, Cold wedding kiss. Followed by howling of the chill winter wind...
The Celebration Of Despair And Woe Grace of anguished reverence And gloom of lean grimace, Dreadful screams of agony At delicious fable's scene. How charming the ache is, Like precious kiss in languid bliss among the moonlight's gleams. Bewitched by the thrill. She revels in nocturnal spree amid swank columns of ivory... The Sorrow palace of (the?) shattered glass, Falling tears and her mourning art, Scalding fragrance of aphrodisiacs, Filled the air with it's lewd witchcraft. Whirl in lights of the dazzling masquerade, Oppressive principles of morality fade, Malicious tongues are weaved in grim talks, While innocence is losing virtue. Voluptuous lips, coquettish eyes Dark-red attire, necklace, silk tights. Her touch is a thorn for she was forlorn As guests was embraced by desire and vice. The merciful gift of an affection adieu, Humble lady was defiled, abused, allured She was sepulchered Under the weight of secret love Terrible truth should've had to bow, But on the edge of tragedy Her desperate action made him free. "Fly to the fair paradise Indelible shame and dishonor demised", If together they were like patrician and whore Then a confession would be a doom. All dreams disappeared in cries of her dear, Ripple of laughter and mockery after, One quivering voice through malevolent joy, Caws of mirk crows, sharp and curved claws. Gossips that tickle the curious minds Courteously crawl in souls of all kind. Sweet flattery caused a blush on the young face, After two days she was found, cut veins. In anticipation of the scarlet sunset, She learned to dance a vulgar minuet. Cautiously entered a sumptuous hall, Dirty, wet thoughts became a hypocritical role. Like yellow leafs on a weeping willow Algid hearts blaze in an ecstasy. Amused by spellbinding Eros She engendered sick fantasies. Vile hands have touched her waist, Fondled body, pinched smooth legs and pretty face. Gasping in an erotic madness A pleasure, a shiver and a grating sadness Gnawed a girl who shone like a pearl Among arrogant lords on a tumultuous ball. The piercing wail in the mist Then muffled moan, mains on wrists Chill winds whisper - "she is missed" In woods beneath blood moon eclipse. A faint sight, she was the bride Who killed her lover this solemn night, Compelled to save him from disgrace She strays in a maze of myriad ways. He met her in a theatre. A curtsy for the noble, A quaint wink for the girl, They fell in love like no one fell and no one loved before. Secret meetings at the lake They hid from eyes of thousands snakes. This promise will never be broken. Under tall trees he got down on knee: - Mannerly asked for my hand. He pulled out the ring, it glaringly blinked: - Bewildered and glad i agreed. - Soon will be ball, i should tell them all. - But you will be stained for the rest of your life... - I'm ready to lose my noble pride. - I can't let them cover you in a mournful pall. Under sneers of sluts and knaves They were buried in the nameless graves And softly echoed someone's laugh in woods... The celebration of despair and woe! Enchanting sounds of violins Should've had to play a funeral theme Instead of a dissolute symphony. Haughty grins and broken dream Followed two lovers in their farewell hours.
The Last Delight Disgrace, abjection, villainy, Immense anger, but elegy. Through his veins, through her pains. Naked soul, her amour now implores. Rumors are hideous. Vicious riddle bellows and rests Under fruitless thirst of death. Trembling lips and frailty hand, Foul deceit is always bland. Forbidden rose in giddy waltz embraced by acrid flame Was plunged within a dim abyss of sweet unholy shame Tempting bust and burning lust held his eyes enthralled Grim mocking sight of haughty spite made her loins moan Embarrassment whimpers, awkwardness weeps, Perplexity swells, submissiveness reaps The fate of a vestal dream. Beneath the spider on a geranium leaf hides frigidity By the grief of the perishing dolls Lonely hearts rove and bawl Tearing through a voile of eternity They are seeking for perversities Engrossing despair will never forgive her prayer Filthy rope invites for the last delight Sappy neck depressed, she was so distressed Acclaiming the horrifying emptiness Forever, beauty died in cage Forever, oblivion absorbed lives page Forever, hope dissolved in haze Forever, breath is enclosed in chains Abandoned in the Golden Age Her portrait came, it was revenge Ohh… Such a miserable, grievous state Feebleness spread this moment Wagging of a little head Cut the blue blood's thread Embarrassment whimpers, awkwardness weeps, Perplexity swells, submissiveness reaps The fate of a vestal dream. Beneath the spider on geranium leaf hides memory By the grief of the perishing dolls Lonely hearts rove and bawl Tearing through a voile of eternity They have found the obscurity
We Are Already Dead Ashen clouds slowly sail on the frowning sky, Baleful Moon shines gently from behind, Thousands of poignant tears are shed down below, Filthy dry odor succumbed to petrichor. An Ominous passage led to the sullen night paysage Which seemed hitherto an illusive far mirage. In tender, soft embrace of wretched enchantress Even timeless darkness will lose to her in chess. With heavy steps, but tranquil breath he treads to a broad ledge, Twisted shapes of gray landscape are seen from the house edge, Weary life and soul's strife, melancholia, Sudden fall of lie bestowed grim euphoria. Seducing gaze from nonentity. He looked loftily and brusquely at the gaunt face As if oblivious about her mournful grace, Her grave malady and naive vanity This insomnious autumnal night. This insomnious autumnal night In murky, burial shroud death cries. She bewails about this agonized blink After his scornful sight. On drear eyes of emerald color For the last time he saw a bitter, mute sorrow. Haggard, frail body rests on the moist, cold ground Among sere asphodels, among vermilion gouts. She is compelled to play in a basilisk chess Thus guarding a painful suspense. On a pallid, glum mien of the Woeful Queen Appeared a genuine sadness. He deluded her vilely, broke her shy heart, Trampled it arrogantly, tore it apart. By invisible waves of vespertine air She was thrown in an abyss of eternal despair. On drear eyes of emerald color For the last time he saw a bitter, mute sorrow. Haggard, frail body rests on the moist cold ground Among sere asphodels, among vermilion gouts. Golden foliage billows by the chill, October wind Beneath argent, dim moonbeams. And the last words he said before the tragical end: "We are... We are... We are already dead..."


released October 18, 2018


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Tragedy In Hope Saint Petersburg, Russia

If the culture of new sincerity sounded like black metal, it would sound like Tragedy In Hope.

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