A Silent Tear Poem Novels & Stories

By the sun was sinking under the horizon, many tears had been shed. The two, small, wounded people on the bed had now found themselves in companiable silence, with the occasional sniffles, softly breaking through the silence, which eventually asserted itself again. They breathed hard together, both of them, matching each other with the count of five, only differing with the heaviness of their gasps for air. At every beginning of a small, quiet period, there was a tiny uprise in tears, further soaking the pink blanket, dying it crimson for the afternoon and evening.

But this was different. Sitting cross-legged on the end of the bed, I stared at the birds in flight, marvelling at their beauty, captivated by their bright, vibrant hues, by the strength of their wings and I cried. No wailing. No sobbing. Just endless silent tears falling down my face and dampening the skirt of my dress as they fell into my lap.

Absolutely nothing. My tears poured down again as I sobbed quietly. My crying loudly got completely drained in Oakhaven, and this time it was silently absorbing my pains. Exhausted, without a show, it was as though the face the tears were running down and I was too tired to do anything else but let them.

The thin sheet of paper trembled in the silence for a long time, like the final echo of a departing voice. Tears finally broke free from Marcel's lashes and splashed onto the letter, landing atop tear stains that had already dried there. "Cedric..." Marcel's fingers tightened around the page until his knuckles turned white. Delilah stared at the neat handwriting covering the letter, her chest filling with an indescribable ache. The man who had always listened to them, who had grinned foolishly and declared himself the happiest person in the world, had been forced by their betrayal to grow wings.

Then I stood there for several long seconds without moving. The room was completely silent. A heavy silence this time. Slowly, I walked over to the bed and sat on its edge. My hands rested in my lap. My eyes remained fixed on the floor. Then suddenly... The tears came. Silently. Without a sob. Without a sound. Heavy tears slowly slid down my cheeks. I hurriedly wiped them away. "What's wrong with me...?" A small, broken laugh escaped my lips. Then I whispered so quietly I barely heard myself.

She unfolded the small paper in her hand and began. Her voice trembled on the first line, then found its ground. “I used to measure love by how loud it sounded by the noise it made when it entered a room, by the ache it left when it walked away. But now, I’ve learned… love can be silent too. It can be the peace that stays after the storm, the way the sky holds itself steady even after lightning splits it open.” She paused. The audience was still. “I don’t hate the ones who left.

“What do you know about love? A man like you. Cold and brooding surely knows nothing about love.” Zaydeen’s countenance dropped, like he was disappointed, but his eyes still burned with that quiet flame of desire. “I may not know about love, but I know for sure that this is not what you deserve.” The tears at the corner of my eyes slid down, and I blinked gently, looking away to control them, but I couldn’t help it because they kept coming down, sliding lower and lower. The tears weren’t loud. They were not the type that racked sobs around my throat. They were not the ones that required me to throw things, fall on the floor, and wallow, but they were the silent ones that had concealed all my

𝐏𝐎𝐕 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐀 The noise at the door stopped. But the fear didn’t. I remained curled up on the bed, hugging my knees to my chest while silent tears ran down my face. I barely realized I was crying. The tears kept coming. Slow. Warm. Silent. My body stayed rigid, incapable of relaxing. My eyes were fixed on the door. Waiting.

My lips trembled as I tried to hold back a sob, but it escaped anyway — soft, broken, full of pain. I turned away, covering my face with my hands as tears poured down. He watched me silently, confusion and worry flickering in his eyes, but no memory behind them. And as I cried beside him, I whispered between my sobs, “It’s okay… I’ll wait. Even if it takes forever, I’ll make you remember me again.” The room was silent except for the sound of my quiet tears and his uneven breathing. Outside, the night wind moved through the trees — gentle, cold, and lonely, just like my heart.

The hurt is always there, just beneath the surface, waiting to swallow me whole A sob escapes my throat, the sound startling me in the quiet of the room. I don’t recognize it this broken, desperate noise that I didn’t even know I was capable of making. I press my hand to my mouth, trying to stop the flood of tears, but it’s too late. The dam has broken, and the tears pour out uncontrollably, like a river that’s been held back for far too long.