Her tears never flow.
Night rises and she is raw again.
The shadows of solitude arrive.
Internal feelings float to the surface.
She is always alone.
Her truest desire will never be granted.
To connect with one, to be complete.
Appeasement for others, this is her gift.
Her milestone arrived, an inevitable day.
Wiser but stagnant, focused but immobile.
She still waits for that kindred heart.
The weeping remains within her until that time arrives.