A Thousand Teardrops

A thousand teardrops are falling from your eyes,

a rain without voice or soul,

cascading down those swollen cheeks.

Dewdrops on bright ruby roses,

glistening silver in a moonlit bed,

but their wilt comes as a slow decay.

Holding on so tight with shaking fists,

clenched around that metal rail,

where first you met.

The skies turn dark as your soul,

and you bask in the ice-cool downpour,

of broken dreams and promises unfulfilled.

This life is short and fading fast,

no longer yours to do as you will,

when light fades and the darkness engulfs.

And just as petals on the rosebush die,

when the last light of summer wanes,

and winter comes to take us all.



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