A tear forms in the corner of my eye.
From a pain no longer held inside.
It slips and slides its way down my skin.
From across my lips to the bottom of my chin.
Then into the wind on a cold Winter day.
To rest in the snow and dig its own grave.
The Spring melts the snow and that tear inside
Prepares itself for one more ride.
As a river, a lake, or even an ocean
That tear becomes an emotion in motion
'Til the emptiest cloud drinks its fill of pain.
And cries to the world in the form of rain.
Frantic people all run for cover.
But not myself, I was born to suffer.
And there I stand seeking death's embrace.
And that tear finds its way back onto my face.