These tears that fall into your lap tonight,
are love gone sour and life that lost its grip
on time and truth and trust, only to slip
into the dark abyss, that zone of fright.
If you will laugh, my dear, spare me the plight!
Unlike the kiss that blossomed from your lip,
these rivers do not flow from a red tip;
they dip, a black ship that'll be lost to sight.
Concern for them, command for me, or more-
do you have something to give me today?
Don't open it again, that wanton core,
remain, if there is nothing you could say;
return nothing and just settle the score.
Your tears will flow and my heart will obey.
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