Tears

The bad, the ugly and the evil
Skim a shard of thought
Miniscule of the gross explosion
That Beelzebub did wrought
They aim strait and strike sharp at
The tender sensors, the frivolous nerves
And deep moans cry out piercingly
As the wall of reason shatters

Mother’s milk that succoured once
Now wells up against the breaking dam
And feeble attempts at holding back
Cannot withstand the inner bedlam

A single drop lingers awhile
Perchance considering its fate
Just so the gland must rupture
And the emotions inundate
The tears, they drop, they fall, they flow
A mother’s love wasting in vain
The thorn that once pricked, now lost in a whim
The colour: a shade profane