They run now more than ever before.
Slowly down my cheeks they roll.
They tickle and track as they go.
Each one followed by another.
Each one following the path,
of the one that came before.
When the first one reached the edge,
it didn't cease is wandering parth.
It only paused, not to fall,
but to find it's way into my heart.
Deeper and Deeper each tear goes.
Falling and seeking out it's very source.
The first reaches the edge of my heart.
Yet again it pauses. I feel it's tension building.
Pulling on my heart and soon it's weight is too much.
It falls, but not into a bottomless hole.
Truly it drops right directly into my soul.
There it floats. Weightlessly spinning.
Joined by each processional tear.
Yet the mass grows no larger,
consumes no more space.
For this is its beginning.
The pain I feel, that causes each tear.
Starts in the depths of my heart,
in the depths of my soul.
Endlessly returning to it's pain filled source.
For within a broken heart, can always be found,
a wounded and aching soul.