The Tear

A droplet of passion
from the eye of my heart,
blind to its purpose,
to all it imparts.

Over some notion,
some fanciful heed,
a teardrop is how
my human soul bleeds.

Injured by sorrow,
by loss and by pain;
through hopeless despair
I stay brackish rain.

But a single bead tracing
my cheek’s tender skin
betrays through my mask―
affection within.