Tears of The Damned

My tears scar my face, my tears wound my weakened mind. My heart cries blood, my voice breaks, my legs try to give in underneath me. I force my breath. The pain, unlike any other. I find no pleasure in these tears of the damned. They bring not satisfaction of my blood dripping when cut open my arm by razor lust. It burns not as the tears of Angels as they mourn me, as fallen kin. These Tears of the Damned are not my curse or a price I pay. These Tears of the Damned are a part of me, gently they torment me. They cut as if it were not tears but needles that cur through my eyes. My voice breaks, I force my smile. I join my place among weepers of the Damned.