No number to name these tears I've shed,
all for you. In pity, in rage
in fear and desperation. But today

I just can't weep. And I'm sorry.
I'm dried up, withered and tired like
the gnarled hands of Wisdom
whose scars are hidden in the creases
of abusive time.

I still love you, I promise. I just
can't show it today. There are too many
cracks in this soul and it needs to heal
before I forget how to feel. I promise

I'm still here. I'm just dreaming
of younger days when Pain was no
slave-master, weilding his whips and chains.
And Beauty caressed our faces, whispering
promises of truth and love. Her funeral
was hard for us to bear. How the tears flowed

over grief and shame and misery. One day
they'll stop, and our mouths will part
in merriment and laughter. But today
is for rest. I'll come back tomorrow.
I promise.