These silent tears have never spoken louder.
Encased inside, they stream so freely with constraint.
To be beautifully broken, free from the deficient comprehension
That to one is incurable.
The tears course down it in its distortions
It is possessed by the wretched
Belonging to the wretched
True as a constant, it remains.
The tears come, only as useless jewels to brighten it
The wretched despises this coming, a fleeting escape from the imperfection
Never lasting
Always constructing more beauty for another dawn
To satisfy the desperate.
These tears leave remembrance of this faultlessness
Streaked across the undying unsightliness
To be removed, forgotten, unwanted
Until they come again
To beautify it.
Until another dawn.
Wow Kim! That was awesome!
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