Oh, it is nothing, just a tear,
caused by hurts, misery, and fears.
Just the dew, from a mist morn, from a restless
night...
the dead, and forlorn.
A flowing river of neglect, a geysers gush,
of emptiness.
A stream that runs from deep within,
that twist and turn at any bend.
The inner rain of purging guilt,
The heaving load, of dirty and filth.
The blood of hope. The people I miss.
The lost memories of a long lost kiss.
But it is only a tear.