Death of a Tear
[The dead author watches his last tear.]
Today I met a tear on its way,
Meandering past my half-closed eyelash.
It glanced at me with tight-lipped heat,
Murmuring of loss and tragedies.
Slowly it waded across my cheek,
Stopping to ponder on wrongs and misdeeds.
I looked into its eyes to know how it came about so,
But all I could see was my own dismembered soul.
At last as it hung at the edge of my chin,
The dusty earth pulling it along,
It began to quieten down a bit;
And remember some happy moments bygone.
Moments with someone under a crimson sky,
Mindless banter about failed affairs;
Existential angst and broken hearts,
Missed kisses and silent goodbyes.
Much it forgot, and also why it was born,
Living in my eye, though, it had seen all.
Escaped now to the dry shore of my life,
The world, to it, was an inert observation.
As the end came nearer, a calm came over,
Then away it fell, into the jaws of gravity.
I’d rather the light wind had claimed it over,
But it met its fate in the earth’s dusty grave.