Those of my eyes rival the angels' tears raining down and scattered here, meant to till the soil and bring it back to life. But if I don't believe in God or angels guarding Heaven's door then from my eyes springs forth the greatest sadness I have ever known.
My cup runneth over.
I'll stay and soak up the deluge so no one sees the damage left behind by the monsoon. I'll stay and soak up the deluge so no one knows a thing about the truth.
Now that I've drunk the rain the soaked the ground, sleeping neighbors hear no sound while I piss away the rain that fell so hard before. And in the morning, the sun will rise so bright. It's rays will sting my reddened eyes. At least I'll know that I kept secret all my cries from them all.