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i.

An engineer of amour
Artificer of fine craft;
Abundant in moral class.

ii.

Alongside her
Astral hierarchy;
Tis, she's mine monarchy.

iii.

Fain, I taketh her cape
Made of foreign swathe;
Mixed with Filipino grape's.

iv.

Not slave's
Unrestricted with eachother;
Messenger's to thy planet, created under the milky way's feather.

©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane nagley dedication
Fain in old tongue means willingly.... If you wondered (:::
The most dim and horrid of all truth's in amour sometimes;

I seeith so many couple's, wherein there's always one lover
Who telleth the other lover " I loveth thee hunny "
And the one who was told their loved,
Replies back " O thank's...............
Such a sad horrid Truth,
Though the one's who told the one's they loveth
That they loveth them and yet got none response
But an ' O thank's, still continueth to loveth that other person
Because that's what true love is............
Yet also, sometime's, the person who sayeth they loveth the other
Some time's wilt just moveth on, from the pain of not ever hearing the same word's and action's back of true amour',
Because fact is, one canst not waisteth time
Giving all their love to one who canst even sayeth it back!!!!
And canst even showeth it back,
Though the person who moved on
Still loveth the other person;
Tis they've realized
Someone else just might sayeth it back
Since the other couldn't say it....
Love is a duo, not a one way street
And if a one way street;
It's not truest amour' on the other person's behalf......
And sadly I seeith this alot to;
That when the person who never saidst those words back
To the one who loveth them
They regret never saying the three word's to the one they do loveth, and they realize at that last moment
How much they loved the other person all along;
Yet were to afraid to sayeth it at the time
Out of fear of being hurt........
Amour's harsh truth sometimes.......
This isn't for anyone personally I just see this soo much and its soo sad soo so sad.....
Wherein the Angel's dieth
The world doth cryeth;
And the world doth falleth
Wherein the Angel wings don't flyeth.


©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
.
                                      F
                       ­        r    r e      r
                            e       e d        e
                          e         om          e
                         d         F  r       ­    d
                         o        e     e          o
                        m       d      o         m
                         F       m     F          F
                           r       r     e         r
                             e       e d        e
                                e     o       e
                                    d     d
                                       m
Malcolm X
I seeith
  A light
      Up ahead
          In the tunnel
               I thinkest,
                 I'm dead........




©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
.
                              abracadabra
                          abracadabra abr
                         cadabra abracada
                        bra abracadabra a
                         bracadabra abrac
                             abracadabra
                             abracadabra
                             abracadabra
                             abracadabra
                             abracadabra
                             abracadabra
                             abracadabra
                             abracadabra
                             abracadabra
                             abracadabra
                             abracadabra
            abracadabra          abracadabra
      ab­racadabra abra     cadabra abracada
      bra abacadabra        abracadabra abra
         cadabra abra           cadabra    abra
            cadabra    a              bracadadbra
- now you see it.
- now you don't.
Put the sheet over mine face
Mine life to leaveth, gone in a trace;
As ashes I'll turneth, succumbing to dust
Whilst looking down at the caretaker, this spirit soaring the dusk.



©Brandon nagley
©Lonesone poets poetry
That feeling of the soul's desire to escape
It's fleshly prison cell.....



©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
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