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.
Tales of Dylan 