Defiance

A chin,
A defiant one
Set forth in rebellion
Losing a battle it never could have won

But yet,
There was no precise proof
Of defiance in those steely eyes
Robotic, black pistols
Shooting out sparks
Of nothingness
And darkness

And the nose,
Flaring softly, somewhere in between the eyes and the chin
when it came to defiance.
The redness might claim fury
But the contracting nostrils might show no more
than plain cowardice

But when the wall of resolve breaks
And the heavy rouge cracks with seeping water
Through the running mascara,
All that's left is a quivering chin,
Glassy eyes
And a runny nose
No defiance, no rebellion,
No betrayl of countenance or thoughts
Only truth
Plain, pure, placid truth