My Voice

My voice, through it was my first lie.
But now you see me pass on the venom as my tongue rolls and dances with less lies.
And now,
My voice is sounding like hope it'self
I pray it never goes a stray.
Though today i let it appreciate my future before it's past fame

She now holds messages that fly past all my thoughts.
Trusted it may sound,
Knowledgeable it may stand,
But that is and will remain my voice.

My voice,
she won't forever remain a dream,
But a dream with messages that you need to know.
Dreams to destinations that you will forever need to crop.
Because, my tongue is still tasting the same as my voice.

Oh my sweet and good voice,
She is my only hope
That still sets pace for the breaks of dawn or dusk that are yet to stay
But just like my dreams, i want my voice to witness my tomorrows.
As i let it reveal a poem that will forever grow so older than your sorrows.

By: Isaac Opeero
The Poetic Flow
A Word Of Hope