Will I not run out of tears, when pouring forth,
My sorrowful laments in ceaseless streams?
Ah, no! They flow as rivers of the North,
Unyielding, like a poet's boundless dreams.

For in each drop a world of woe resides,
As deep as oceans with their foaming tide,
And like the dawning of an autumn morn,
A constant sorrow lies, forever sworn.

No sunlit path can dry this weeping eye,
No summer's breeze can ease this heavy heart,
For in love's absence, tears shall never dry,
And from this well of grief, I'll never part.

Each tear a testament to love denied,
A painful ache, forever magnified,
Yet every salty jewel that gently falls,
Is but the echo of love's fervent calls.

Oh, Sun! To see your golden rays anew,
And feel your warmth upon my tear-stained cheek!
To touch the roses' blush, so soft and true,
And hear the playful songbirds as they speak!

But even beauty's touch is dulled by pain,
For love's relentless absence leaves a stain,
And though the world may still its wonders hold,
Its beauty's nothing, for my heart is cold.

In nature's arms, I seek a respite brief,
To find some solace in her gentle care,
Yet every flower's bloom brings naught but grief,
And every breath of wind a burdened air.

For nature's beauty, though it brings delight,
Can never heal my wounded soul tonight,
And as I weep amidst her verdant grace,
I yearn for love's embrace, forever chased.

Alas! That tears should be my only cure,
A never-ending wellspring of my grief,
Yet each new drop, like words from poets pure,
A testament to love's eternal belief.

So let the tears flow forth, a ceaseless stream,
For in their ardent flow, my heart will gleam,
And though in sorrow's depths my soul is steeped,
These tears shall keep my love forever dreamed.
© voice of remedy