Silence before the shears is not defeat. Protest is the voice of the ego, and where nobody inside insists that this should not be happening, an event simply happens. Pain stays, the body feels what it feels, and the suffering built on top of it, the argument with what is, falls away.
A man decoding these lines will stay outside them forever, because they point to a state that has to be tasted. Wherever life shears something away, the mind rushes in to explain, to blame, to bargain. Let it stay quiet once, and in the middle of the loss something watches, untouched.