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The Renaissance Of Hope

by Décembre Noir

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Herr Zlich
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Herr Zlich You need to listen by yourself! Favorite track: Hope/Renaissance.
Anthony Molina
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Anthony Molina An excellent album mixing fury, anger and a certain form of melancholy.
The voice carries everything admirably with its hatred all in control.
A revelation. Favorite track: Hope/Renaissance.
Leonnko
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Leonnko I was just randomly checking out some new songs from my recommendations, but when I heard that thick main riff from a Swan Lake Full of Tears, it hit me so hard I decided that I need to own this album. It's a perfect mix of doom and death metal. The faster paced songs sound so awesome and refreshing after slower ones, too! Favorite track: A Swan Lake Full of Tears.
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1.
This bleak realisation Everything comes to an end A dying swan Only the mind can turn back time A pale white figure in the dark A palace of silence, she breathes coldness In this hall, in every dusty corner of this old theatre The sound of clapping hands that she misses so much The tingling sensation when everyone looks up at her beautiful face Just a little breeze of appreciation One last time, she wants to be the swan With her gracile stretched legs and the colossal wings This bitter yearning to burn the calling limelight One last time, she wants to be the swan queen The flying pale white figure in the dark When the last white feather falls, a swan lake full of tears Every time it hurts a little more to leave the stage without a stroke of wings When the last white feather falls, a swan lake full of tears The bewitched princess with the velvety plumage With her gracile stretched legs and the colossal wings One last time, she wants to be the swan queen The flying pale white figure in the dark When the last white feather falls A swan lake full of tears Don’t forget me, please Ignore my injured feet Don’t look at me If I start to weep This silent hall, this bleak realisation Only the mind can turn back time A dying swan with broken wings
2.
An uncomfortable melody Whistled on a blade of grass By the winds powerless gasp This melody shall be the last See how the trees wither While they’re longing for a last tear from a river The last straw for the renaissance of hope No bud in bloom will ever be seen again This melody shall be the last A portrait black in black Lies idle on its deathbed The ravages of time run dry As part of its last pulsation The ravages of time run dry, a portrait As part of its pulsation, black in black Decades of passive euthanasia Created a cremated world Die and let die, vanished and be forgotten How peaceful will this future be? See how the trees wither The only constant noise In the serene air The only constant noise, the sound of the flatline In the serene air, the only constant noise The sound of the flatline Hope for renaissance, in the serene air The last straw for the renaissance of hope The sound of the flatline Hope for renaissance, the last straw For the renaissance of hope Take a look at this bleak elegancy, just before the final collapse The clamor of silent words will also be unheard today How peaceful this future will be When life re-creates itself, bit by bit And silence touches the soul of beauty Until everything blooms again In the serene air, the only constant noise The sound of the flatline Hope for renaissance, in the serene air The last straw for the renaissance of hope The sound of the flatline Hope for renaissance, the last straw For the renaissance of hope
3.
Self-reflection between black lines The torn drawing of a resurrected man Mirror mirror, please show me another face Ritual and failure A heavy crown, the head hangs low Oblivious king among the all-seeing eyes of God Behind a veil, isolated from the world outside I see myself, an empty shell in black and white Ritual and failure Lethargic light and the all devouring monochrome sky Cloud castles rain cocaine to speed up the cycle of life And a golden spoon full of silence I feed the canvas with our dearest stylistic device No one shall speak, no one shall weep Frameless, dust to dust My unsuspecting brushstroke, your heretic lamenting sword When bloody wine and tears flow into another tragic chord Oh Lord, tell me, how can I be your chosen one? I’m always trying to be someone else Oh Lord, tell me, am I still your little lovable son? My dear Father, don’t be disappointed about my trivial way of life Maybe someday you can tell me who I am Self-reflection between white lines The void and a sleepless weary heart Mirror mirror, please show me another face Ritual and failure A golden spoon full of silence Maybe someday we will find us Yet still I carry the weight of your world In stigmata hands, forever and ever
4.
On the run, on the run from myself Through cold streets of transience With tearing eyes, without a goal I’m on the run from tomorrow’s pale white sun In the spiral of fading lights With my still pounding heart in wounded hands Carrier of the burden of discarded years Somewhere in nowhere, where rain never ends And it feels so strange to drown In the downward spiral of time This life is a dead end street Where all hope falls and capitulates In search of goodness In these cold streets And I wonder who I am, am I nothing? And I wonder where I stand in life, am I alone? And sometimes I beg for a little spark of hope Unheard prayers for an end On the run from myself I am the fusion of day and night In the waiting line of death I find no rest Here, in the downward spiral of time I try to take a breath beneath life’s surface But my lungs are filled with liquid salt In the downward spiral of time Somewhere in nowhere, beyond Eden Where the rain never ends On the run from tomorrow’s pale white sun Through this ocean of tears and fading lights Yes, I have lost myself in this fast-paced world In these cold streets of transience And it feels so strange to drown In the downward spiral of time This life is a dead end street Where all hope falls and capitulates
5.
Rough colliding waves, forced to drown this world By a raging bluster, in consequence of mankind’s guilt With every further second, the ocean of unrest Slops over, over and over, certain death Colliding waves, forced to drown Under the wings of eschaton My pleasure I don’t know how long I was yearning For this era to come This is the era of deliverance I can see the void that lives inside myself Written in every face The void that lives inside yourself For this era to come I don’t know how long we were yearning Until the terminal breath in human history Until the last pulsation lapses into silence The wings of eschaton will whip up the sea To drown all of us in the ocean of unrest The autopurification of the planet is irresistible Welcome to the long awaited end, my pleasure The end of the human race Rough colliding waves, forced to drown this world By a raging bluster, in consequence of mankind’s guilt The wings of eschaton will whip up the sea
6.
It’s not the quest for freedom It is more the thirst to free the soul From the deepest bottom of my heart Words of shame and constant blame Cryptic poems about my wounded weeping sky I want to show you my world of rain Tears fill the ground without a sound I want to show you my world of rain So come a little bit closer Take a look around Behind the scenes Where silent tears fill the ground Kiss the boundless void, touch the tongue of mourning I fall down to the ground without a sound Sometimes I try to enjoy the silence But the silence speaks too loud Tears fill the ground without a sound Take a look around Behind the scenes I kiss the boundless void Behind the scenes

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released November 13, 2020

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Décembre Noir Germany

DECEMBRE NOIR have introduced their melancholic-melodic mix of Death and Doom Metal on the two albums for F.D.A. Rekotz - "A Discouraged Believer" and "Forsaken Earth". With "Autumn Kings", the band is further evolving its distinctive sound. The quintet from Erfurt is interested in subtly growing tension arcs and atmospheric shifts. For fans of Katatonia, Paradise Lost, My Dying Bride ... more

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