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Tears aren’t mere signs of frailty, But echoes of a soul’s resilience, Borne from battles fought so valiantly, Against life's storms and fierce defiance. They flow not from a place of fear, But from a heart that’s braved too long, A river of pain, yet crystal clear, A quiet strength, profound and strong. Each drop a story, a silent plea, A testament to all endured, Not weakness, but a brave decree, Of wounds that time has not yet cured. So let them fall, these sacred streams, For in their flow, the spirit mends, And in the stillness of their gleams, A weary soul, at last, transcends.