O, weary angels, don’t look at me with those eyes.If that is your state then what of our cries?What can I tell you of goodness that you don’t already know?What can I tell you of faith,of hope and lovethat you yourselves bestow?O, angels, don’t pluck another feather,this isn’t the sky, it’s just the weather.Please, angels, try.We are one all together.Look up and listen, I’ll say it once and then put down my pen:We are sorry for our ignoranceand even though we are worldly,it might happen again.We are sorry for your wearinessand even though you aren’t worldly,we are no more than human.

Is it odd, my love, that I envy others who have not met you for the intoxication they have yet to experience? Is it odd that I wish to witness you with new eyes so I may have the pleasure of falling for you all over again? I am grateful, so grateful, for knowing the meaning of your various sighs. For being the cause of your ecstatic cries. But, if only for a moment, I wish to let you fall out of my hands so that I may catch you again. You, my love, are the oddity. You are my exception.

Christianity is constantly in danger of being hijacked by people who act out in hatred - by people who will not even hear the cries of their victims, let alone own up to their guilt.

Old soul cries through the tears of a newborn

Wings can only flyas long as the bird flies Soul blackens when you put on vestment of lies White candle wax criesfor ignitable wickJealous people burnto make your heart feel sick

FLIES IN DISGUISETell me,Have youReally seenFlies in a child's eyesOr heard their hungry criesIn the middleOf the night?Don't lie.You can protest all you wantAbout peaceAnd genocide,But unless you are willingTo take beatings for your fights,Your display of trendy showmanshipSimply ain't right.Go on,Carry your useless signsAbout an issue the worldAlready abhors,But it's TRUEHeartfelt actionsThat will preventSuits andSenatorsFrom creatingAny more wars.

I am a waning birdencased in a glass sphere;I cannot see my prison,and my cries no one can hear.

When your soulmate cries your heart weeps.

I don't even know how long she sobs. Time ceases to pass, and she cries, cries, cries. Clutches me and makes these sounds of a soul being ripped in two, the grief so long denied taking its toll. Fermented grief is far more potent.

When you feel sadness inside, wipe it away by cries and tears!

For a while she cried silently until she tired herself out and the overwhelming feeling of sleepiness overcame her. The room around her was fairly silent, although she wasn’t the only one crying herself to sleep. It was quite common at places like this to hear cries in the dark. There were so many saddened and lonesome souls around her. It was usually at night when they were reminded of just how sad and lonely they actually were.

When success is uniform, the celebration becomes universal. Of which use is it to you to rejoice at the time your friend cries?

Pets reflect you like mirrors. When you are happy, you can see your dog smiling and when you are sad, your cat cries.

Love of liberty, the refusal to accept your soul's enslavement, not even in exchange for paradise; stalwart games over and above love and pain, over and above death; smashing even the most sacrosant of the molds when they are unable to contain you any longer - these are the great cries of Crete. (Report to Greco)

If you believe that your needs were met because you prayed, then you make God the parent who reacts only when the baby cries. Matthew 6:25-34.