Scourged and spit upon his loving crown
Made to look a fool, when already being down
None true backer's, to rescue this loving being
A prophet of end times, as the world was his sting:

Showing affection tis his own thing
The globe hath forgotten, thing's he doth bring
They point finger's, and hate, like none tommorrow
Yet they'll seeith their fate, from them he got sorrow:

He lended his hand out, as they just laughed
They kneweth not amour', their heart's all like glass
Though they broke his, like the human's they were
They loved lust, not amare, they loved anger to splurge:

They put him on the chopping block
They took off his forgiving charmed head;
They killed him with demonish feeling's
As he floated over their abode's of death:

Though now being blessed, he still forgiveth
Them down there thinking, this was all it,
Though judgement wilt hit them, tis there is karma
The devil they've brought, the devil to be with them tommorrow.



©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry