There is always a light at the end of your darkness.
There is always a light at the end of your turmoil.
There is always a light at the end of your troubles.
There is always a light at the end of your pain.

Just don’t close your eyes.

How beautiful is she?
Who has fallen in the darkest tunnel
How bright is she?
Not knowing her smiles are equivalent to a ray of sunshine
How tall is she?
For we may never know, if she does not stand
How pale is she?
They've been rumors that her skin is as fine as chocolate
How wise is she?
Beyond her years of every mans dream
How can she leave the tunnel?
How beautiful is thee
One will never know her head fills with agony
Stuck in a tunnel if she only knew
She is the light at the end of this tunnel if only if she moved.

Traveling through the dusk tunnel
A pinpoint of light at the end;
Warmth overtaketh me
The beginning of life's around the bend.

One hundred kin
Waiting to greet me in;
All smiling, all radiating
Ages range from five to one-hundred and nine,
Some looketh old, though all's young: no age existeth, time here is not told. Age only existeth back on earth, though here; all age's art the same, no one is special by their birth.

Betwixt mine family standeth tall mine savior and lord
Jesus Christ the king; with angel's whom standeth beside him, as tis they speaketh together telepathically. In Christ's hand's he reacheth out to me- as whilst I looketh at his eye's aqua green, the universe showeth itself in a way to Man unseen; and whilst at that moment clearly I hadst seen the hole's in his Palm's and feet, his word's " cometh hither mine son" I bowed in front of mine kin to him instantaneously.



©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry

today i made a wish you had loved me
and i held my breath as long as i could till my cheeks turned blue
cause they told me, that's how you get what you want

i don't know if that's true...
cause there's still no you

there's just this "me"
in these stiff high heels
and my sad little ****** up
lungs

A right at the end of the tunnel --
I am not yet free.
The rocky path is dark and long
And slowly nearing I see --

A freedom at the end of the tunnel --
I know I'll escape soon.
It is a constant and pressing struggle --
Though I'll come out to the moon.

A hope at the end of the tunnel --
I feel it -- I know it -- It comes.
It is hard to grasp, though now I see
My journey no longer is numb.

A right at the end of the tunnel --
It's not freedom nor is it hope.
But it's a right at the end of the tunnel --
Not a left -- Not to wrong -- But to cope.

i.

She is mine guide
The light that shine's;
Upon the luminescence
Of the great divide.


©Brandon nagley
©Earl Jane nagley nagley dedication
©Lonesome poet's poetry

the burning tip of your half-smoked cigarette
is the light at the end of my dark tunnel