Lorica Segmentata Lyrics

Uselessness and hopelessness. Loneliness and bitterness. Biting underneath. Eating into me. So I became a grave to hide the fangs that were gnawing me inside, so many years ago. Covered by secrecy that hides my soul.
My accent spills, to close out, engulf reality but my voice isn’t the same as the sound.
My voice isn’t the same as the sound.
Deadpan stare, a diversion for poise secrete the ache. Heart squeezed in a fist to numb the pain.
The darkest sludge. Oozing, and creeping, and pouring, and leaking; from the worn out bones.
Time builds upon itself to seep decay from my pores. Congealed in the air. My scars become more.
Rebellion taking place upon my carcass. Strip my armor in the mirror. Yellow eyes look back at me.
Blackness has hardened all my scars. I’ll seek the answers.
Bound for years. From within an emptiness some sick concoction of hate and decadence.
Limited to pride and presently in silence. Doubt springs seeking answers. Grim masked father, help me, is this all I am? A heart attack in pent up eyes?