By JH Sayyar
When silent sorrow flows from weeping eyes,
Each tear a tale no voice could ever tell,
A storm within, beneath calm, cloudless skies,
Where aching hearts in wordless tempests dwell
They glisten not from joy, but bitter strife,
The broken echoes of a dream once bright,
Each drop a page from chapters torn by life,
A prism born of pain refracting a dim light
Yet tears are not the mark of weakness shown,
But strength that dares to feel and not pretend;
They cleanse the soul when all hopes have flown,
And bring the dawn where darkest nights may end.
So let them fall, like rain upon the earth,
For from such grief, the soul may find rebirth
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