A tear slides down my skin, cold as silence, soft as a whisper
A tear slides down my skin, cold as silence, soft as a whisper,
And when it reaches my lips, it curls at the edges, a silent irony of sadness,
Was it pain or relief, suffering or peace, a paradox flowing from my eyes,
Wearing a mask that even I cannot decipher, an enigmatic story in disguise,
The world sees sadness, but the tear knows better, for it carries memories, not deep wounds,
It smiles in silence, for it understands that not all goodbyes are meant to hurt,
It is a dance of emotions merging, a stream of consciousness that knows no end,
Where each drop of water becomes a story, an unspoken mystery, an unvoiced thought,
And so, my tear smiles, carrying within it a universe of hidden meanings,
For not all tears are of sadness; some are of understanding and freedom.
Copyright ©
Dan Enache
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