A waterfall of tears.
A river of tears.
An ocean of tears.
Which tributaries must I follow
To come to dry land?
The water pours, pounds
Down in violent sheets
And still it is not enough
To wash away
My sadness or
This reality.
All I see is
Blue blue blue
And the mist rising
From the water wound
Where each drop lands:
A resurrected end.
Photo by Stephen Walker on Unsplash