Into his bowl

I watched as tears streaked down his face
Slowly they ran the tracks; parallel
The left won…
He collected them in a glass bowl
And in it he stared
His gaze burned through the clear fluid that gradually filed the bowl
They; the tears, beckoned on their compatriots
For they never seemed to stop streaming down his eyes
There were no sobs
No wails, no cries, no sound
That was the sound of a heart; crushed
The eerie silence of his tears sucked the colour out of the room
…his bowl was getting full

Somebody, plug this spring
Somebody, plus this broken heart or we would all drown
These tears will take us all away
It would engulf all our hearts and leave us gasping
This broken heart will suck us all in
Somebody, please plug this heart, least we get lost in its chasm
The room had turned grey
The sounds around had faded off; all now a muffle
Desperately, my eyes searched his soul
It quested for either the gaping hole from where the tears rolled out
Or the headstone by the chasm where such sorrow emanates from
My eyes searched far and through
…his bowl was almost full

The heart is worst where it is lonely in company
The heart is most broken when sad in the the midst of celebration
The heart is most desperate when it is dead in the abode of life
The heart knows the worst pain, when it denied its love
The heart is most sick, when its hope is deferred
His bow was full and so he reached for another one

Someone please plug this heart
Least we all drown



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