Poetry In Every Breath By Sam Tumblin
It’s not a fight until you try,
Not every defeat deserves a cry.
You may stumble, you may fall,
But courage means you gave your all.
Triumph may come, or failure may stay,
But never surrender before you play.
For the battle is not always to win,
Sometimes the victory is trying again.
So stand your ground and reach for the sky,
You’ll never know unless you try.
잠은 더 이상 내 친구가 아니네,
끝없이 이어지는 꿈을 쫓아 헤매네.
이 저주를 몰아낼 수 있다면 얼마나 좋을까,
하지만 잠과 꿈은 덩굴처럼 얽혀만 가네.
눈을 감아도 평온은 찾아오지 않고,
쉼 없이 떠도는 생각은 멈추지 않네.
내 마음은 눈으로 볼 수 없는 것을 만들고,
나를 놓아주지 않는 세상을 그려내네.
밤새도록 새벽을 쫓아 달리며,
끝이 보이기를 간절히 바라네.
그러나 내가 외면했던 모든 꿈은
다시 돌아와 경계를 넘어오네.
잠은 선물일까, 아니면 정해진 운명일까?
풀어낼 수 없는 운명의 실타래 속에 갇혔네.
저항할수록 더욱 선명하게 깨닫네,
이 덩굴의 뿌리가 내 마음 깊이 박혀 있음을.
그러니 이제 나를 깨어나게 하소서,
침묵이 말하게 하고,
내가 그토록 찾아 헤매던 휴식을 허락하소서.
꿈이 나를 부를지라도, 이제는 내가 정하리라.
꿈의 세계와 나의 세계 사이,
그 경계는 내가 정하리라.
— 샘 텀블린 (Sam Tumblin)
Sleep is not a friend of mine,
Chasing dreams in an endless line.
Exorcise this curse, divine,
But sleep and dreams entwine like vine.
I close my eyes, yet find no peace,
The restless thoughts will never cease.
My mind creates what eyes can’t see,
A world that will not set me free.
I chase the dawn throughout the night,
Searching for an end in sight.
Yet every dream that I decline
Returns again to cross the line.
Is sleep a gift or a design?
A tangled fate I can’t unwind.
The more I fight, the more I find,
This vine has roots deep in my mind.
So let me wake, let silence speak,
Let me find the rest I seek.
For dreams may call, but now I define
The boundary between their world and mine.
What is your quest?
What keeps you awake when the world finds rest?
What dreams lie hidden beneath your chest?
What trials have come to put you to the test?
Uncertain roads, yet faith in your stride,
A burning ambition you refuse to hide.
Unfiltered, untamed, with a fire in your chest,
You rise from the ashes, refusing to rest.
Let your life’s zest awaken the flame,
Let every setback remember your name.
Embrace every lesson, withstand every test,
And never let doubt steal your very best.
Push through the darkness, keep moving ahead,
Let go of the fears that live in your head.
Ignore the naysayers who feed on your stress,
Your purpose is greater than their bitterness.
So what is your quest?
What beats in your heart when you’re put to the test?
Keep chasing that dream, give nothing less—
Live with intention. Let your journey impress.
No matter if you see our dream, Or understand the vision we hold, Some stories have yet to be written, Some truths have yet to be told.
No matter our culture, No matter our race, Creativity lives within us all, Each dream has its own time and place.
Your dream is yours, My dream is mine, Different visions, different paths, Yet our imaginations intertwine.
Our dreams, as we deem, Our hopes, our plans, The worlds we build within our minds, The future shaped by our own hands.
You may not see what I see, You may not believe what I believe, But a dream does not need your permission To become what I dare to conceive.
Our dream.
A thousand visions, A million ways, Different minds imagining A brighter world beyond today.
Our dreams, as we deem.
Our creativity, Our humanity, Our right to imagine what could be.
Our dream.
And no matter who we are, Or how far apart we seem, We all possess the power To create, to hope, to dream.
Our dream. Our vision. Our destiny.
— Sam Tumblin
There once was a time I feared the sliver,
Until I learned to fear those whose promises wither.
They speak of peace, yet deliver pain,
And leave behind wounds that never explain.
— Sam Tumblin
No grand introduction, no crown, no throne,
I arrive with a melody all my own.
A Pied Piper of words, with a heart that can see,
The weight you’ve been carrying silently.
I see the clouds that have claimed your skies,
The silent questions behind your eyes.
Another day where nothing feels right,
Another long battle with the fading light.
The rain keeps falling, the wounds still sting,
And hope feels like such a fragile thing.
Your heart is tired from the endless fight,
Searching for dawn in the middle of night.
But wait a moment before you surrender,
There’s still a spark beneath your ember.
Let my words drift softly into your soul,
Like a healing rhythm making you whole.
Even the rain has a place to fall,
Even the smallest stream answers a call.
It carves through stone, finds its way to the sea,
And teaches us what we were meant to be.
For life has a purpose, though hidden from view,
And storms have a way of revealing the true.
The ground may feel like the end of your road,
But even there, new beginnings are sowed.
So listen closely as my flute takes flight,
Let every note lead you back to the light.
Leave yesterday’s shadows where they used to be,
There’s a world beyond sorrow waiting to see.
I’ll play through the thunder, the darkness, the rain,
Until hope finds its rhythm and dances again.
Follow the music, let your spirit run free—
The Pied Piper is calling. Come journey with me.
So let your mind flee…
And let your soul be free.
My mind keeps talking, the words won’t cease,
My hand keeps moving, searching for peace.
A hunger awakens that I cannot deny,
With stories to tell and dreams yet to fly.
My brain’s overloaded, my heart’s on the page,
Each thought a performer, each word takes the stage.
I pour out my secrets, my sorrows, my gold,
Breathing life into stories that beg to be told.
But the world can be ruthless, the market can be cold,
With countless creations that never get sold.
Still, I reload, let the next verse unfold,
For a dream doesn’t die just because it’s been told.
My mind keeps talking, my pen won’t retreat,
I’ve got too many stories and a hunger to feed.
Until these hands falter, until these eyes close,
I’ll keep planting the words and see how they grow.
Oh, wouldn’t it be sweet to collect a little cream,
To turn all these scribbles into more than a dream?
A pocket full of cheddar, a name people know,
From the seeds of imagination I’ve continued to sow.
So I write what I feel, let the ink overflow,
Like a fountain of Sprite with a mind of its own.
No intention to offend, no desire to incite,
Just a soul full of stories that must see the light.
Paper is my table, and words are my feast,
Every line that I finish brings hunger’s release.
But satisfaction is fleeting; there’s more to create,
Another tale at the window, another at the gate.
I sharpen my thoughts and return to the fight,
Chasing lost fables from the darkness to light.
For talent needs patience, and dreams need a seed,
And success takes persistence when there’s no guarantee.
So write when you’re weary, recite when you’re weak,
Let your words tell the stories your lips cannot speak.
Don’t bury your gift just because no one’s there,
Keep breathing life into the words that you share.
My mind keeps talking, my pen won’t retreat,
I’ve got too many stories and a hunger to feed.
Let the world turn its pages; let time be the judge,
I’ll keep writing my truth, and I won’t hold a grudge.
For the hand that keeps writing has a purpose indeed,
It’s not just the paper—it’s the soul that must feed.
So keep those words flowing, let your imagination lead,
If you’ve got a story to tell, let your hand feed the need.
A dagger to the heart was the weapon of love,
A cruel little gift from the heavens above.
Once it penetrated, I pulled closer instead,
As if pain were the promise that love had said.
I should have retreated, should have turned away,
But my heart had its reasons my mind couldn’t sway.
Each twist brought a longing, each wound left a scar,
Yet I chased the affection, no matter how far.
For love can be tender, yet ruthless and blind,
Leaving reason and caution somewhere behind.
And sometimes the dagger that tears you apart
Is the one you keep holding close to your heart.
When life’s pressures rise and burdens mount, And hope runs low with no strength to count, When you’re backed to the ropes, ready to fall, Dig deep within and answer the call.
Stay on course when the road gets rough, For even the strongest can feel they’ve had enough. Obstacles may block the path you seek, But don’t surrender when your knees grow weak.
Some truths in life are learned through pain, Through endless struggles and pouring rain. You can’t know the battle until you’ve been there, Or feel the weight of another’s despair.
So if you’re weary and losing your fight, I’ll stretch out my hand and help you find light. Not to judge your weakness or criticize, But to lift your spirit and help you rise.
I’ll stand beside you and help you comprehend, That every dark chapter must someday end. Keep pushing forward, no matter how steep, For the strongest resolve is the one we keep.
When pressure bears down and you’re nearing the end, Stay the course, stand tall, and rise again.
