The soul danced and rejoiced on the melancholic music of its failure all alone in its jungle city and cried over the moon. It counted the stars, hoping someday all of it would be alright but then all the hopes were shattered as the nostalgic feeling...
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Tears are like water to the plant of your heart, to the flowers that blooms on your heart that keeps it alive. When the tears stop, it all starts to dry and they leave the land of your heart barren and slowly all of them die and nothing is left other than a cold heart frozen still unable to grow love anymore or unable to feel things. And people often think that the one who cries is weaker but often in reality no one has a fruitful heart like the one who chooses to water its heart with the warm tears that run down their cheeks. Shedding your tears sometimes is always okay and they don't make you appear weak ever.
