As what quakes Is what breaks The ice to the melted heart, Having once quivered to each beat Hollow upon the river, Nurtured to each shiver, Staining the mind With age. My blue is my deep Memory in my eyes, While something seems to speak Deep in the flames, Nested in the grains That wash out The dust from my sighs. Something scars The rivers flood Against the Earth's mud, Drowning each sorrow into the next crater That lined itself through this planet's weather Not able to tell The meteor from the shower. Tears are the need To plant every seed In the gravity-grounded-ground, While sighs become all there is to sound Wakefulness from each sheltered eye Beneath the lid For everything that has been hid From the sun to melt the heart where it cried. A frozen heart Is anything but the soldier's start To reopening his home to his joy, In any remembrance left Other than the loses bereft.