I view the world through a cascade of color. Prisms of light shine through the twin teardrops I have bred, but not yet given birth to. They hang upon my being and sway in a desperate attempt to not succumb to the fate below. That fateful drop, mere feet, and yet the journey ends in a splash of recognition of what we once had. How can realization be anything but that when we are forever fated to stare up at the place we once dwelled? Fallen from grace, do we strive to return to the glory we once had? No, we accept our fate for what it is and we look towards brighter paths. We continue on and we live a life without tears instead.