Honest and silent cries
Who're both from truth and lies
Reveal without disguise
The stories of the eyes.

Those optics who are red,
Silver tears they have shed
And have carefully bled
The stories of the eyes.

As smoke fondles the lips,
Inhaled with gentle sips,
It gets exhaled and slips
The stories of the eyes.

Red mist covers the view
Of those jewels who're blue
Who show pitch-black nights through
The stories of the eyes.

Bubbles in the eyes hatch
And eyelashes can't catch
Streams, who (from her) detach
The stories of the eyes.

Tears roll down her rose-cheek,
Gushing forth like a creek.
And they can't stop. They leak,
The stories of the eyes.

As the streams of tears stop,
Night's veil and Dawn's breath swap,
They push, like a teardrop,
*The stories of the eyes.

The way you looked at me
With water drops clinging to your lashes
Built a fire of desire
That only you could tame

You came in like rain
that poured heavily,
washing away the dirt and remains
of the polluted world
but, some despised your presence
for they lacked warmth and security
you made them shiver,
you made them suffer,
when you believed that
you gave them joy
With your pure drops of water

- Kaya

how it descends
parachuting an
expansive heart,
soft whose arrows are...

to get drenched
is our choice, not
the sky's victory
or defeat; bliss...

a bridge betwixt
ether, earth, of a
peacock's throat,
dripping song...

What do you want?
Tears to regret!
Dew drops to soul refine!

Many drops are in
the mysterious oceans,
the filthy lakes,
the murky rivers,
the cloudy brooks,
in the vast world.

It's hard to find a drop
that's different
in the mysterious oceans,
the filthy lakes,
the murky rivers,
the cloudy brooks,
in the vast world.

But all it takes
is one divergent drop
willing to break from
the mysterious oceans,
the filthy lakes,
the murky rivers,
the cloudy brooks,
to persuade
the drops in the
vast world into becoming
something gloriously
beautiful.