__________

To forged a smile everyday

And joined the crowd and be okay

My face tattooed the image of clown

To hide a man who's so feeling down

i

I feeleth a calming bereavement, from mine own heart's dying
I mosey the coffin carousel of this lonesomeness artistic torture;
I dig with nail's into mine isolation box, kicking stones, lifting rock's, and as the nightshine seepeth, I close mine eyes, weepeth.

ii

Yet this grave shalt not be mine end, though an amour is not there, for forlornness hath becometh a beloved best of friends;
Thither the protection of the gloom, I shalt burst on through, breaking into the rainbow that shalt streameth to mine beauty.

iii

Mine dying shalt reneweth me, the tomb shalt not subdue me
The copse forest shalt enticeth me, as I swayeth and flyeth asunder from mine carcass, with none asunder to holdeth back mine natural capabilities, as all senses shalt be enhanced.

iv

The wind wilt guideth me wherein others couldst not, mine creator to showeth me mine lifespan plot, to continue to loveth, even whilst the groan's that cometh near, mine vision, and view's to be glorious, this freedom of mine eternal entity alive, no fear's.

v

It shalt be a triumphant of all life's, wherein I shalt haveth a wife, to comfort me, thus all to be alright, as guardian's to me shalt be an insight, an insight of mineself deeply and the spiritual realm that shalt engulf me, and swaddle me so peacefully in awakening.





©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry

Whilst this site is bickering
And whilst it's at unrest;
I shalt sit back happy
Showing amour, being content.




©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry

In death, mine extraterrestrial soul shalt be in suspension;
Hanging in the cumulus like a bird on a string, full apprehension.


©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry

It was a miserable affair from the very beginning
Just try and ignore the bullet that invasively laments with the soul.
Asked over and over to clear the throat and to speak words louder
Funny thing is the louder the screams, the less one is known.

Roses lay down a path of nettles,
What once was cherished, was handed to ghosts.
I could have been your graceless temptress,
You could have been my cardinals post.

I got thirty dollar's in gas
And a few dollar's to cruise to the big city
What newness will I stumble into today
Hopefully not more cop's

i

I shalt consecrate one as mine empress
As she sitteth high up upon her throne;
She shalt be the ruler of mine dominion
An abode aloft the Earthling's decor below.

ii

I shalt put upon her eminence gracefully
A castle tiera upon her frowning head;
Wherein when one's shalt tryeth to hurt her
I'll giveth mine life, to protecteth mine wife's bed.

iii

And we shalt wander on the streamside
Whilst ourn harp-player's strum for us in ourn court;
Sipping on wine, of amare divine
Ourn spirit's and finger's, locked with none remorse.

iv

Though tis this is all just an illusion
Hoping for one day, mine empress to awaketh from her sleep;
Wherein wherever she shalt be, I cant findeth her
I thinkest I am dead, Maby asleep?



©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry

Serpahim heart
Stitched by glass;
Broken so easily.

©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry

all my life i thought i was trying
i laughed just to keep from crying
looking back, i went down the wrong track

just more memories to dismember

i surrender

all the time that i spent just wasting
was only time i was facing
looking back, at every rock hard fact

only bad things that i remember

i surrender

I felt the
dead man
holding them
back

We create
Just to destroy

Death awaiteth us all
Waiting for us to trip up;
To slippeth fast
In the bask of the universal law.

And whilst the reaper calleth
"Brandon cometh here mine friend"
I swayeth over in slow step's
Awaiting, knowing mine end.

Though on the other side
Dearest amour, and truest friend's;
A feastful party of uncorrupted
None beast's for the homestead.

With a romantic who's hopeless as me
None longer hopeless, but taken by her sweet;
She'll be a comet, of heavenly treat's
She shalt be mine queen, I hopeth to meet.



©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry