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Dexter Terzungwe Jul 2015
Take All of me, keep less of you.
Tried to trace your shadow with my worn out shoe.
Tried to see things through your eyes, what an empty view.
The very darkness of others’ shadows, yours, an outline was never in view.

Just when I want you in my life.
You hug me tightly and stab me with a rusty envelope knife.
Asked you to tell me if you want me in your life,
Guess this bleeding is a tale for the gathering at after-life.

Surrendered All of me and you still didn’t come through.
Now all of me think less of you.
Now all of me crave even less of you
Still funny that all of me should love you.
inspired by  Sufjan S.
The Artist painted
the skies and molded
the stars and galaxies
to His liking.

He sculpted the
mountains out of
clay and dirt.

He wrote music
and taught the birds
to sing His chords.

He carved a place
for the ocean and
poured His love
in its depths.

He made man.
He knit veins to bones.
Skin to ligaments and muscle.
Built a cage to protect our heart
as He knew that it
is so easily broken.
He connected nerves to the brain
and in that brain,
He made so complex of a
system that science is still
baffled by the ***** that
holds the information
of our personality.
Our emotions.
Our passions.

Then.
He did something crazy.
Insane.

He gave man free will.
To love or to hate.
To turn to or against.

And man turned against.
Hid from his Creator.
The One who knows his
inmost being.

And beauty was distorted.

All that is beautiful
is only an
echo.

An echo of the home
that we once knew.
An echo of the original
Artist, the one who
taught us to create.

*All I can do now
is to try and capture
Your beauty
to show to others.
Dexter Terzungwe Jun 2015
Some men are not meant to be happy, they are meant to be great!
Normal is overrated,
And true happiness, the subject of many a debate.
As far back as man, or be it extra-terrestial, the concept, outdated.

Some men will rather starve than be called fat or pale.
Some men will rather be killed than bear witness to a  false tale.
Some men will die alone, and others will die with their loved ones at bay.
Some men will try to be different, but dead bodies all decay.

All through history, Man has sought to make his life easier;
To get a lot more comfortable, by any means, quicker.
He has sought to be forever in his youth;
To seal within himself, his soul like a selection from the old juke-booth.

— The End —