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Description
Tears,
falling like streams
parting like rivers
rushing like rapids
dropping into an abyss
wet the floor
feed into life
return to the sky;
this pain inside
taunting my eyes
a fiddle on my soul
waiting for a bad note
plotting an excuse
to bleed my eyes again;
so beautiful they are
yet so deceitful in their ways
trapped in my depths
enduring the darkness of death
for such a short eternity;
and I a lost player
tuning my instrument to perfection
to keep this acid from charring
this weakness from showing;
burning holes inside
like a virus in my veins;
and perchance you would come a day
to hear my song be played
to help a man deafened
by the sounds of his music
tune his tired instrument;
and listen to his woes
as he cries a song
of a piper who lays yet to be paid