O paranormal venue, I glance for thy direction
Wherein art thou? Cleaning up for God's inspection;
Art thou hidden? Beneath the moon and stars?
Art thou broken? Unnoticed? Thy heart like me on mar's.

O lost amour', mine soul searches the shore's
Dying daily, not seeking a Maby;
For one I rideth the beam's of color string's
For a hopeless romantic, I do plore.



©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry