Tears of Blood

The cloud cries tears of rain, The tree cries tears of leaves. The roses cry tears of petals, But I cry tears of blood. This feeling, you don’t know it, It’s like being stabbed in the heart With a knife. What are cloud without rain? What are trees without leaves? What are roses without petals? What am I without blood, What am I without eyes? The clouds are nothing. The trees are nothing. The roses are nothing, But I am dead. Is it better to be dead or to be nothing? I do not know, although I feel that I should.