The falling teardrop scorns the rain,
One falls for pleasure, the other for pain,
But they both drop down, and they both do die,
Under the starry infinite sky,
They start from grey, and they fall with grace,
One from the skies and one from the face,
One from the clouds, the other from the eyes,
As they strike the earth, their mockeries fly,
They fly in the wind, their bodies don’t rust,
They swim in the seas and sleep with the dust,
Euphemism then conquers, and the emptiness in their fight show,
Even if they bathe in the sun, and consume the sea, the voids only grow.
We are all equal, then why do we fight?
Who are we to advice wrong from right?
We are like water, small drops of it,
With the same white noise, on the ground we hit,
With a reminiscence of a magnificent fall,
and a splendid life, we never lived at all ,
The descend is their life and life is a fall,
Even though they survive now, die they must all….