What's the face of weeping?
Is it about tears from eyes drip,
either restrained or extravagant
that pump without compulsion?
Is it the shrieks of scalding pain
when it exceeds what the spirit
can hold; a fraction of a time,
when he rather covets death?
Somewhere, tears evaporated
and throats too numb to moan.
Do you call it weeping if quiet,
eyes are distant, heart's waning.
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