One always tells another
(I'd die for thou)
Yet
The fact is
For mine Spanish amour'
I wouldst die!!!

They say history repeats itself,
Tis it does....
Yet the books are now bound to be closed...

Some people die to liveth
I liveth to die.....

As tis
The saying goes
( forever 27)
I think soon
I'll be forever 27,

Ironically two plus seven equals nine
And nine is mine lucky number
Which nine happens to be the number in all religions
Which means
(Completion)

Tis
Sleep
Best part of mine night!!!! ():::::::

Why is it?

That the one's who calleth another one ignorant...
Art ignorant their own selves...

Amare,
            heartbreak nightmare!!!!

This pain physically is giving me alot of stresses on me everyone so if I stop writing thats why thanks
Need prayers
Brandon nagley

WRITER'S BLOCK,
                                when a poet loses full control!!!

When we shalt want dream's to turn into reality for us realist's
Those dream's stayeth just as that,
Dream's






©By Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry

Maby I just write to many poems,
Or Maby its just mine way of expressing
How bad this soul wants to be free from mine body!!!

Poetry
Bleeding out with the lonesomeness to be its water ....

Maby one just asketh to much of one
Or Maby tis the other who gives to little!!!
Either way
Unhappiness one shalt feel!!!

Amare,
            The cure to all cancer....

Tis
Not this life that I seeketh to live in
Tis
The next one that shalt fulfill all mine needs!!

Melancholy heartache
Hits the sweetest of people
Whilst the people who art the sweetest tried giving their all
Tis
They were only forgotten in the whole process.....

Nothing

Just because many spread their loved ones ashes
In the dirt
Sand
Or on some mountain
Or ocean wave,

Doesn't mean their souls art in ashes.....

Nothing here sorry

Heart out In the open
It canst feeleth the wind's breeze;
To afraid to let anyone in
I feareth it just might bleed.



©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry

poetry gone

Sometimes
Tis not the dead who art the true ghost's
Sometimes
Tis the living that art ghostly .

Its so sad to see the candles that are Lit walking around,
Are burning out their own flame, from their own distorted deception!!!!
And each day I see/more and more of those lights turn off,
Only if they could see thine own beauty!!!
Their candle would be on a hilltop for all to see,

Illuminating thy sun!!!

Deleteddddddddd

Man forgot everything,
The only thing he remembered was war!!!!

I'll keep mine love in mine soul
Wherein its warm
And safe

As I play mine old piano keys
That are soo lonesome
As me,
I feel their desire to be touched
As I know
That's the same as me...

She thinks I left
Funny thing is
Ive been here All along,

Just seeking reality
Just a letter
Or call!!!

They tell us,
Monsters hide under our bed!
In actuality,
They lie await in rich men's minds!

For
Tis,
They think it strange we do not runneth with them
Yet we aren't as the world as they..

Goodnight all of HP
Sweetest of dream's (;

Peanuts

As I wanted to stop writing today,
Poe cameth to speaketh to me....
Poe said,
"Son, thou must continue on mine hopeless dark romance"
Then I hadst seen Shakespeare,
Shakespeare said to me......
"Son, thou art the new me in thy modern age, thou canst not let that die,  thou art one of a kind, as people do seeith that..never giveth up being who thou art".....
So after these two cameth and spoke to me today,
I figured mine writing,
Is not yet over....
I'll continue to write these amour letters,
Even if none in return,
It's just that purest of love,
Mine heart doth yearn....


©Brandon nagley
©lonesome poet's poetry

Thou holdeth the key to amour and fear
Thou giveth to the blind
Thine self saves time!!

Turn back mine
As for thee
I'll bleed a million death's!!!

If thou hadst one day left here on this rocky place,
What wouldst thou telleth thy lover?
If thou hadst only one day left?
I think I'd telleth them of mine love....




©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry

Sharing-a gift from god
Taking- Satan's compassion!!!

Above.

The angel watches in all dismay..

As humans display demonic value..

Did they forget thy own beginnings? The angel asked...

Scratching his head, a tear falls to planet earth....

The storms roll on on,

As at that moment in mans final judgment,

The mortal beasts remember the days of old...how everything was soo pure...

The angel weeps,    MI AMOR'

Love, soo overrated,
Of course unless, you shall find it...

There's a little man in mine soul
He liveth in the space between mine lungs and bones
For tis his home
That little man's name is ( Love)
I telleth him......

Cometh out,
Cometh out little guy
It's OK........

He wouldn't cometh out.

He told me he didint wanna feel pain no more...

As the saying doth go,
I shalt always forgive,
But I shalt not forget!!!!

The sweet taste
Of the poe-like raven death;
Gently comforts mine
Every last breathe.




©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry

She sayeth to me
( I needeth time)
Yet all I need is her
Mi amour'....

Guess I'll just haveth to wait!!!

Done

He's gone to a separate place,
A place that is numb....
He's left the building!!!

I notice this harsh fact
When one telleth other's truth,
They seeketh to not heareth.

And when one telleth other's stuff
About how human being's shouldst be
And how human's art not,
These truth's maketh the human's feeleth insecure...
As the beings due to these truths;
Tuck away,
Hide in a cave.
Blinded by wordly knowledge and sight!!!!

The human's hear the truth spoken
By the messenger's,
And it hits the being's
Than all their insecurities arise
From those messenger's truthful word's.....

And instead of the being's taking the truth's as honesty,
And using those truths to better themselves..
They walk away from them,
As tis they did and do their God..

Leaving the truthgivers by themselves
Alone....

But fact is
The spiritual messenger's don't needeth those being's to stay.
Their just sent here to loveth and showeth forgiveness
Something the beings of the world hadst forgotten!!!
For tis all haveth free will...

And sadly by those being's own will,
They blind their own eye's
And walketh from truth....

So sad to see....
So sad,

As tis even when the beings hate and mock those messenger's
And the crowd all leaveth,
The spiritual beings still giveth love to those wordly ones,
They still forgive
And still giveth truth...
Not worrying of men's mockery of them
Or disbelief...

For tis the spiritual one's
Art ones of love.....

As tis the heavenly angel's
Already knoweth man is going to disbelieve,
Because Satan hast his deep influence
Here on this planet...

I bore this shallowed skin not as a gift,
But as a curse../.

Distressing
All's well
All's not
Words not spoken
Not needing to be said
Should be clearly seen
Yet tis not
Nothings fixed
He quit!!

For all you reading me autobiography writings there are four parts so can't read one and say you know me lol gotta read all

Your friend BRANDON

Thee hardest part is not inquiring for that love,
The hardest part is waiting on thine love to come and findeth thou self!!!

If that ever happens!!!!

Maby I'm just a different variety,
Yet when I think about it
I'm not a variety at all

Just a fallen Angel who's turned good!!!