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A prophecy:

In an age when all
Our cars are
Bumblebee
Hybrids

With Breathe (2 AM),
On the 2005 album
Wreck Of The Day,

Anna Christine Nalick
Will reenter
The Billboard Hot 100 Songs
20 years from now
...
I accept self-fulfilling
Prophecies as
Divine
Jordan Rowan Dec 2015
It's like a diamond stake pushed through the silence of my brain
It's like a thunder of voices coming down like a hurricane
It's like a forest of gunfire blowing past my bedroom door
It's like the force of a god pushing down on my floor

Whip smart, by all accounts, but lost beneath the sheets
Forced out of a comfort zone and pushed out to the streets
Spastic changing voices like a record out of line
Just speak like you always do and don't **** with my mind

I'm like a tidal wave that only gets halfway there
No shore to erode with no Taiwan to even care
I'm like a promise left on the kitchen table after dawn
Someone will find it but it will be thrown out on the lawn

Born without a spoon but there is silver in my teeth
I'm made out of as much spirit as a plastic, clearance wreath
Dust beneath the stars cancels out the dawning sun
Shine on the bums, the prophets, everyone
brandon nagley Jul 2015
Plush gadget men, strapped with rounded green circular things, pig's of high class weapon. Mustard seed, to ghastly. Their deed's ***** and satire flaming. Guillotine wagon's to be put into FEMA cache camp's, the 200 million man army to cometh, a false prophet to bloweth mind's, wherein crime wilt seemeth as a prize to the suckling babies.. Rat's and scabies to infest the white pillar mansion! **** thy cigarette's and fathom, what thy blue bowling ball couldst hath been. Calleth it greenhouse gas, I sayeth get out the gas mask's and survive the fan flying ship's!! Martial law to be given as commandment's, citizens shalt turneth ****, normal wilt be blood running down thy alleyway signs reading (STOP) the red paint to be the mark of the martyr's, desolate and slaughtered. The day wilt be shorter, as night to colden longer. Suicide vests to be strapped to the terrorist chest, as mothers turneth against brother's, and sister's against father's! Heart's wilt faulter the man's conscious thinking, the skeleton's wilt be stinking, as the maggot's of hell doth rise ... New age Rome to collapse as a domino on grandma's stove. À triumphant death, the devil wilt smile, until his days art outnumbered by the chariot riders, of Jehovah's miracle Mile..........


©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Prophetic poetry
brandon nagley Jun 2015
The new city
I await to be ascended
For hath we planted or vented
The bullets we pile upon mounds?

Wherein creation dumbs down!!!

To mammal inferiors!!!

For God is superior
Haveth we lost that translation?
Wherein the cities
And nations
Hath become their own diety!!!

Spewing mouths
Canst hardly be fed
Wherein the living amongst the dead
Are non-compassionate!!!

Loosen
Or fasten it
Thy belts likely to come unmanaged
Where's the advantage
In the hate thou war among another?

Sister and brother!!

Hath thou forgotten thy kin?

For thou lost all
Nothing!!!!

Is it thee that shalt win?

Thee greedy of new-aged Noah's generation!!!

Is it fornications
Ability
Of **** and *******
To liken thine senses?
For where art thy lenses?
Thou Freemasons of mother earth!!!

For its thy curse
Thou hast brought
Amongst thy children

Thy diaries
Art thy legacies!!!

— The End —