#mine-sweet-refuge
meale, agin thy losabox,
Mine sixth sense canst
Feeleth thine Cranium's
Woe. Telepathically this
I do know; as thine dazzle
Is leaving slowly, but queen
Behold me, as I taketh the
Stripes on thine backside.
I taketh the crown of Thorn's,
Upon thy top; whilst I bleedeth
Thine own blood, so its me, not thee
Whom the demon's confront. I wilt
Dieth for thou, so rest easy amour;
I wilt suffereth for thou, relax mine
Girl. I wilt replace thine water droplet's
With mine own vital being, Upon the
Burdened cross, I'll be hung up; strung
As cattle; struck with cord's, so thou canst sleep.
As when thou shalt waketh from thine gentle snooze, I shalt be
Bloodied, broken, anguished, bruised. All because I tooketh thine Torment's, so thou couldst respire mine muse, all because sweetest jane, im verily in love; verily in love with thou, mine dear refuge.
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©Earl jane Nagley dedication ( Filipino rose)
Feb 11, 2016
Feb 11, 2016 at 8:57 PM UTC