In the quiet of the night, they softly descend,
Whispers of sorrow that time cannot mend.
Each drop a story, a world of its own,
Carving paths down faces of stone.

They glisten like stars in the moon’s gentle glow,
Reflecting the heart’s silent echo.
Through storms of emotion, they find their way,
Turning the darkest night into day.

In the cradle of silence, they cradle our pain,
A cascade of feelings we cannot contain.
Yet in their salt, a cleansing begins,
Washing away the weight of our sins.

For tears are the language of hearts unspoken,
A bridge between words and the deeply broken.
In their flow, we find solace and peace,
A gentle reminder of love’s sweet release.