i am so curious
i talk to a lot of people from other countries
don't germans mostly hate americans?
besides the tourists and volkswagon owners

i mean, we stole your technology
and einstein

in this world we're living in
it's so easy giving in
it's harder to stand and fight
to try to do what is right

with love we could shine
a light from your heart to mine
we are all the same inside
let's let go of foolish pride

Serpahim heart
Stitched by glass;
Broken so easily.

©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry

You are so called seraphim
You breaks my heart with your every hymn
As the moon light curse my tears to shed
the spell unfolds like an rising dead

The arrow struck my heart in two
Silence reminds me of my dreadful woe
Dreaming of you i am lost in space
My cemetery is filled with dark haze

For you poetry is already dead
Just like the fire of your shadow in my head
Losing you i am in the edge of hell
You have my heart and my soul to sell

Mercy me! for my life is in vain
Set my heart free from your lovers chain
I will bitterly celebrate for the sun to come
When the time come that your love has already gone..

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

(earthly amour')

Telling another they loveth them
Yet just word's;
None action's.

( heavenly amour')

Words and action's
Meeting together;
In collaboration of god.




©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry

i

This temple is broken, lonesome, and old
It's leaving this place, the world's not meant for Good soul's;
Whilst good soul's art meant, for heaven not purgatory nor hell
No longer shalt I be trapped, or treated like some beast in his cell.

ii

I've seen prison before, and I dealt with that iron bar hand
The structure, the flames, the brute animals, and the pain;
They biteth til thou bleedeth, again and again, wings to expand
Expansional shift, I'll taketh mine flying arm's and I shalt uplift.

iii

Leaving suddenly, as they do sayeth, for only the good do die young, I shalt breatheth more easily, none more hatred, for the amour of the light I'm going to, I shalt succumb, mine senses wilt be ten fold the more than planet destruction earth, rebirthed.

iv

None more seeing war on the television screens, none more untruthful words, for others to bringeth me, none more reptillian like Creation's to killeth mine dream's, none more scream's, none more for those to breaketh me, a serene scene, of alien planet's.

v

None more hopeless romance, for I shalt haveth all the hope given, none more having to write on paper, mine soul shalt write by the dust trail's so splended, to be the cherub's inspiration, as cheribum shalt listen to me sing on set, this place for me to forget.


©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry

This skin feels just one size too small.
When I try to stretch,
It holds me back.
I find my arms and legs are still bent,
Just waiting until they can really extend
Out into the world
Grabbing what they want,
Running where they want.
Waiting till they are
Free.