Painted Tears
March 09, 1999
The painted tears that you force yourself to cry,
are not truly tears,
they are just waters from your eye.
They roll from cheek to chin,
then across your stagnant face,
holding on to the emptiness...
filling puddles with waste.
You paint these tears for yourself,
to try and show your sorrow,
The truth will never be forgotten,
just your waters for tomorrow.
The memories of yesteryear perform across your face,
The mood you try to hide,
only shames you with disgrace.
We are the Walkers.
We pace amongst the dead,
We listen to you cry...
Bow...
and then turn your weary head.
then as sequential as the tidal flow,
you will join your fore-fathers,
and we will claim your soul...
