Print

bathory aria / portrait of the dead countess[i. benighted like usher]snuffed tapers sighedas death left impressinghis crest of cold tears on the countessbenighted like ill-fated usherthe house of bathory shrouded'neath griefs dark facadeif only i could have weptin mourning by her sidei would have clasped her so tightlike storm-beached aphroditedrowned on kytherean tidesand kissed herfor from her alonemy lips would have knownenigmas of shadowy vistaswhere pleasures took fleshand pain, remorselesscame freezing the breathSongtexteof raucous life hushed unto whispersbenighted.inhaling the pale waning moonlight that creptthrough the crypt of her lord who so lucidly sleptbenighted.exhaling the wail of black widowhood's tollwaxing eternal night entered her soul[ii. a murder of ravens in fugue]now haranguing grey skieswith revenge upon lifegnathic and sapphicneeds begged gendercidedelusions of grandier denounced the revoltof descrying cursed glass, disenchanted in vaultsencircled by glyphs midst her sin-sistered cultwith hangman's abandon she plied spiritworldsto archangels in bondagefrom light to night hurledcast down to the earth where torment would unfurl.......but soon,her tarot provedhybrid rumours spread like tumourswould accrueand blight her starsto better bitter truthsof cold bloodbathsas bodies rosein rigid drovesto haunt her from theirshallow burials imposedwhen wolves exhumedtheir carthen wombswhere heavy frosts had laboured longto bare their woundsto the depths of her soul they pursuedwielding their poison they flewlike a murder of ravens in fugueand knowing their raptureswould shatter her dreamsshe clawed blackened books for damnation's reprievebaneful cawed canons on amassed enemiesso hallow's eveas she receivedlike bellona to the ballthose enemiesfell-sisters heavedher torturiescross stained flagstonesto her carriage reined to fleebut she knew she must brave the night throughthough fear crept a deathshead o'er the moonlike a murder of ravens in fuguefor each masked, jewelled gaze held dread purposehorror froze painted eyes to cold staresand even her dancein the vast mirrors castlooked the ill of her futureif fate feasted there....[iii. eyes that witnessed madness]in an age crucified by the nails of faithwhen rank scarecrows of christ blighted landsan aloof countess born an obsidian wraithdared the abyss knowing well she was damnedher life whispered grief like a funeral marchtwisted and yearning, obsessed an entrancedwith those succumbing to crueltycrushed 'neath the gait of her dancea whirlwind of fire that swept through the briersof sweet rose her thickets of black thorn had grasped...she demanded the heavens and forever to gleanthe elixir of youth from the purewhilst her lesbian fantasiesreamed to extremeso'er decades unleashedcame for blood's silken curebut her reign ended swiftlyfor dark gods dreamt too deepto heed her pleaswhen her gaolers were assailedwith condemnations from a priestwho'd stammered ritesin the dead of nightfor maidens staining winding sheetsand she postured proudwhen her crimes were trowelledand jezebelled to peasant lipsthough she smelt the firesthat licked limbs higherto the tortured cunts of accomplicesso ends this twisted fable's worthand though spared the pyre's biteby dint of nobled bloodlined birthher sins (crimes) garnered her no respiteforever severed from the thrill of coming nightwhere slow death alone could grant her flight"the spirits have all but fled judgementi rot, alone, insane,where the forest whispers puce laments for mefrom amidst the pine and wreathed wolfsbanebeyond these walls, wherein condemnedto the gloom of an austere tombi pace with feral madness sentthrough the pale beams of a guiltless moonwho, bereft of necrologies, thuscommands creation over the earthwhilst i resign my lips to deatha slow cold kiss that chides rebirththough one last wish is bequathed by fatemy beauty shalt wilt, unseensave for twin black eyes that shalt come to takemy soul to peace or hell for company"my soul to hell for company Aus Songtexte Mania