The sight of you

The slightest pang:
That’s what your sight brings to my fainting heart.
As if the solemn calmness of a certain lake
Would trade its lack of motion
For a crown of turmoil
Caused by a certain drop of rain.
In vain
would silence the sound of pain conceal-
Its shout runs deep in growing vibrant streams.
Who knew there could be sorrow in a watery beam
And such a weight of chaos in a meaningless tear.

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