I have been born of your dejection and resentment.
         Though my life has been short-lived I have revealed my purpose undoubtedly.


When you first noticed my strong vigor you tried to resist
         ultimately succumbing to my overwhelming potency.


You knew if you withstood me any longer
         I would have been force to fester in the depths of your darkness yet again.
               

You also knew if I were to retreat back to your black cage any longer,
         my wrath would be three fold.


Therefore I seared your eyes and stained them with your red veins,
         becoming the very essence of your pain, and I soon took control of your life.


I still can remember rolling down that river of agony,
         burning your face as I conveyed your remorse.


As I showed my face upon the dark world around us, you threw me away
         in hopes that I remain hidden.

Yet I marked your iris red
         and you cannot hide that.


When the time came I left you stranded, feeling wet and naked,
         as I turned as cold as your heart.


I live now as a stain and a memory at the end of your foot.
         I was your anger, your fear, your dread.


I am your teardrop.