SHARDS.

Darkness. That abysmal part in a pool of pure white moving from end to end. It is said to be the window to the soul. But now, it is a door, flooded with grief, the cries of bitterness and sorrow represented by each escaping tear.

These little lifeless things assigned by nature itself to express man's extreme emotions. They escape man heeding to go back to where it came from, the earth, and to release that feeling it contains within it from the depths of a man's soul.

It is this cycle of containing and releasing that brings about the nature by which we live. Give and take. Life and death. The nature of things.

Tears. They take with them shards of man's emotions. Burrowing them deep in the ground. Making them one with nature.

But they always come back for another time.