Lyrics Mourners - Empyrium
Meagre
trees
in
the
shrouds,
as
old
as
the
stones...
Mourners
of
abandon′d
love,
forever
their
woes
shall
grow
silent.
O
how
many
times
may
the
moon
has
shone
- reflected
in
these
black
lakes?
Should
it
be
that
can
hear,
the
woes
of
those
who
ceased
their
lifes?
O
so
old
they
are...
they
bare
the
neverending
grief...
Age-old
miserability
Ancient
bitter
beauty
Lost
is
the
hope
of
those,
who
walk
the
moors
with
pain
in
heart.
...and
all
joy
it
sinks,
burried
deep,
forever
presumed
dead.
O,
so
old
they
are...
they
bare
the
neverending
grief...
Age
- old
miserability,
a
bitter
beauty
thrilling
me
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