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A tear that falls, a quiet grace,
A fragile drop upon her face.
Caught in time, it hangs, it stays,
A mirror of her heart’s soft praise.
Beneath her lashes, shadows weave,
A sorrow born from all we grieve.
Yet in that tear, a story told,
Of silent moments, raw and bold.
The world around her fades away,
In shades of black and white, it sways.
But in her tear, the light does dance,
A fleeting glow, a quiet trance.
The weight of loss, the depth of care,
Captured in a droplet, rare.
A universe, both vast and small,
Lives within that tear’s soft fall.
Oh, fragile tear, you speak the truth,
Of love, of pain, of fleeting youth.
In your reflection, all is clear—
The heart, the soul, the silent fear. 6 replies
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