Protolith - The Construct | Текст песни

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• Protolith
• The Construct

You cannot silence the muzzled mourner
He forever resides within his corner
The setter of pain upon scrolls for the meek
Ink blotted, and red, are the tears on his cheek
Marred words of the ages, lined with knowledge of few
His template of trial, judged with wisdom eschewed
Bereft to the fields of the dead, to his grave
None seek to unravel the secrets he gave
Though solace may come before days far below
When he finally sees; he has never left home
So weary and tired, one last latent cry
This mourner, in silence, will give up and die

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