Analysis of Tragedy

You tell it will be okay.
You tell me not to fear Tragedy's hold.
You reckon nothing is at fault or faulty in any way.
So, tell me, if not Tragedy's hand, with what other fate shall I abide?
The melancholy in my veins needs resolve.
To suffer would be in vain.
To suffer would be to surrender.
To surrender would be to experience my fate.
I shall not abide with any other grasp. Tragedy, for now, rules my soil.
To prove my salt would be to weep and to surrender to the great Tragedy, Tragedy; who, so fond of death and dishonesty, so full of love for hatred and betrayal, becomes my alma mater.
My true Love.
Tragedy, He who has no face, looks me eye to eye, and I see His sinister smile, coated in hunger, some twisted need to find any chance to deceive me.
He looks me in the eye, and tells me it will be okay.
He tells me not to fear His hand.
He betrays me.