Author: talesofdylan

Purpose For a Peach

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Foolishness at fault, for the failures of mankind we are frivolously fighting and no one seems to mind.

The woman once known was to be wished for by all but all who saw could not see that which was in she.

She who held all in her eyes, brown beauty soft as summer’s sand, could be seen to the end of the skies all down the land.
And her lips they matched with the gentle plumping of a peach, sweet to it’s core and seeds with great reach.

She is light in a smile the moon to brighten the night, and each and every day I wait for the sun to sift it’s way down so that I may see it, the eyes so brown.

I fall as all men do but at least I fall for such a sweet fruit.

Though this sweat peach may lay burden behind my life I partake in its flavor knowing I have a savior.

So no matter the choice though I shall try to do well I actually think that this girl could take me further from hell.

Let Me

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Let me speak words to you that will strike at your very core; let me write words to you that leave you wanting more.

  Let me make you to understand the passion that flows through these veins, I wish for the words to touch your heart, not simply your brains.

  Let me display the Glory that is my God, the way He works through a pen, it’s almost odd.

  You see my passion is fueled by a Lord that never gives up on me, He sends me across the waters, calmly through a stormy sea.

  I ask you to let me before I truly speak, but I intend to let my words be known no matter what others seek.

  My words must flow out of me like water from a spring, if they don’t then I am lost with no more song to sing.

  Now, while the world is tempting me to ask it if I may, I realize now the Lord is my answer to avoid all dismay.

  So I say to my God let me speak, and let it be your voice, He answers me beautifully saying, ” my child, you’ve made the right choice”.

  Now in my life instead of wondering if I should, I know for all my days that my answers will come from a God that is good.

  So I ask of you to let me speak, but I shall speak either way… for death is just one price I’m not willing to let a friend pay.

“S” Sounds

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Is it strange to say that “s” is one of the strongest sounds, the way it severs in several way, or slices through what I say.

The “S” when someone speaks silently to your soul, the way it seeps easily through and takes control.

I sit as they tell me that I must stop, but I want to go, I want my own control; and so I tame the titillating sound of “S” I make it mine and I clean up this mess.

“S”? “S” is dead but I bring it to life this belongs to Me and through this powerful letter I will illiterate on meanings of living, and now I will use it to be giving.

The final “S’s” are to be safe and sound,I have learned what I must and my own meaning has been found.

Wanderlust

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 Every time i walk in a room,  i believe she’ll be there,  my perfect woman built by God with great care.

   I’m looking around at every moment of every day believing ill find her, and that in my arms is where she’ll stay.

   The most crowded rooms I’ve seen have seemed empty after one glance, because she was not there, so that moment was not my chance.

   I search far and wide with a mouth that often refuses to speak, how will i know it’s her, will heavens light shine down on the one i seek?

   Id go to the ends of the earth to find this love, because i know it will fill me and surround me,  it will fit like a glove.

   So far i search but do not find, so I’m stuck, lost, and completely full of wanderlust; i fall at Gods feet, in His plan ill trust.

Incomplete

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I am incomplete, I can not move, I can not breathe, and for me there is no such thing as relief.

I am incomplete, because my soul can not be contempt, because my heart is torn in two, and because I feel nothing without you.

I am incomplete, I am alive yet in my eyes I look far more dead, if you look inside me there’s an empty cracked head.

I am incomplete, I’ve led myself to move but few understand how hard that was all that it took to tear me down was such a soft touch, you’d think that wouldn’t be enough.

I am incomplete, because I can barely even write even though my rhymes are at their height.
I am incomplete because this poem itself is incom… never mind I don’t have the words…