I stand alone in the night,

Lost without your saving light.

The darkness all around me flows,

As ever blacker storm clouds grow.

Mist and rain and thunder’s sound,

Fitful winds blow my soul around.

Over the ground, over your grave,

Your memories my heart enslaves.

Your icy fingers hold me fast,

As over me your spell is cast.

It’s deafening, your mournful call,

Heard loudly shrieking above the squall.

The pangs of pain my heart impales,

At our renting apart, your cries bewail.

But the loneliest, harshest sound of all,

Have you ever heard a teardrop fall?

A TEARDROP FALL---BY: Karen Hickman--Nov. 2000.