I believed my well of tears had run dry in this existence,
The reservoir within me, once a vast expanse of emptiness,
Had withered away, its depths a barren wasteland,
Scorched by the relentless sun of heartache,
Leaving behind only a parched and arid soul.
Yet here I stand, a warrior in a ceaseless battle,
My armor, worn and battered, but spirit undeterred,
For I vowed to suppress the overwhelming surge,
That threatened to consume me and my fragile resolve.
But alas, my valiant efforts proved to be in vain,
As the floodgates of my sorrow were flung wide open,
And the torrent of anguish surged forth unbridled,
A deluge of tears cascading down my weary cheeks.
I tried to hold back the tide, to stem the relentless flow,
But the strength within me crumbled beneath the weight,
Of memories that haunt, of love that once bloomed,
And now it withers, fading like a distant echo.
On this battlefield of emotions, I was defeated,
Unable to quell the storm that raged within,
For, how could I not weep, dear Ella?
For you, the muse of my heart, the keeper of my dreams.
Each tear that falls bears witness to the love we shared,
And to the ache that lingers in my shattered soul,
They speak of a longing that refuses to be silenced,
A yearning that echoes through the chambers of my being.
So let them flow, these tears that defy my strength,
For they are the testament of a love that once burned bright,
In their shimmering trails, I find solace and release,
As they cleanse the wounds that time cannot heal.
In this existence, I believed my well of tears had run dry,
But you, dear Ella, have awakened the dormant ache,
And now, I surrender to the pain that envelops me,
For in these tears, I find a bittersweet solace, a fragile peace.
