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Not a tear, and drop of the pure soul.
Not a tear, and fall on my cheek.
Not a wet trail from lakes of the eye,
And salt witnesses to the lost nights.
Not romance, not from pneumonia
Crying over you gray-haired nostalgia.
Eyelashes motionless, like a sculpture,

Used to have to take water treatments.
Not a tear, and needle in the cushion of the heart.
It seems harmless, but bitter from the peppers.
Blots leaves on pieces of paper.
The author's own tragedy of the ether.
Not a tear but a drop in a rain puddle.
Not from tears – and simply – I care.
Silver flashed in the dawn Rani.
Not a tear – and the point
In our novel....