Single, Blue Tear

A tear drop whispers to the soul. It tells of the pain locked inside. It is the ghost of love. It is the bitter rain that we drink to remember, and we hope. We hope never to be broken again, but life's cruel hands find us still. Another tear drop falls, splashing, disappearing into the vast golden reaches of sand.

There was nothing for miles. The hot sun bore down, burning my shoulders, and my bare feet screamed, scorched under the weight of this world. Vultures circled high above, waiting for me to fall, but I refused. Hope was the candle in my heart, and my hands held to the flame, protecting it from the cold wind that strikes me in the face. And the broken road told me where I have been, but it refused to let me see where I am going. But I remain.

I had been walking for days. I don't remember when I saw another living soul. I can't recall my last conversation. Faded photographs shoved in my pocket tell of a family now lost, but my love wasn't gone. I just tried to forget to ease the pain. Another step forward took me away from tragedy, but do I walk toward despair? Was this some kind of cruel trick to tear me apart before I am finally defeated? I am not the fool, so I won't despair.

Hope flickered across a small patch of shards of grass. My feet quicken, leaving tender kisses of red behind. My hands are like sandpaper, but they fluttered open. I fell, but not in defeat. I ripped the soft green out of its home, and I licked its roots. Life found me again, but only for a moment. Now, time bled me dry, wanting more, and without it, I would surely die.

I can't go on like this. I don't know what day, month, year it is. I'm lucky to remember who I am. I just don't recognize this world anymore. The luscious green that we took for granted, we took apart. Now, there was nothing but waste and sand, our remains, and we were many. Now, we were few, struggling to survive, to hold on to what was once the essence of life, but our rivers had also run dry. The wildlife was gone, decaying across the side of some road, and we were nothing but shadows begging to live again. If only it would rain.

There had been no storms for the past couple of weeks. At first, I thought I would drown. Now, it's dehydration that hunts me. If only I could find a drop, I could take another step further. All the water to this world can't possibly be gone. Life had to go on. I had to survive, but who says that will happen? The sun has eaten away at what we brought down, and now no more tears fall. Not one single, blue tear.

Maybe I should give up. Nobody was going to help me. Nobody cared because they were either gone or too busy saving themselves. Nobody knew that I was here. Can't you hear me? I'm screaming. I'm screaming for you, but only the wind carried my voice away. And the vultures waited, licking their beaks, and the sun tore at my back. Why should I continue on?

The hot ground beneath me was almost comforting. My feet finally found rescue held up in the air, reaching toward heaven. My hands opened and closed, trying to remember the things that I once took for granted. I would cry, if I wasn't parched, but my mouth remained open. I could dream. I could dream of one last drop before the end, and then I would welcome darkness. There was nothing past this road, and my tragedy lied here in shadow. I'm already gone, but then something cold fell across my skin. It felt like a lone tear looking for hope, and my heart responded. My eyes snapped opened, welcoming in the rain.

"Water is life."

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