"biteth" poems
i
This temple is broken, lonesome, and old
It's leaving this place, the world's not meant for Good soul's;
Whilst good soul's art meant, for heaven not purgatory nor hell
No longer shalt I be trapped, or treated like some beast in his cell.
ii
I've seen prison before, and I dealt with that iron bar hand
The structure, the flames, the brute animals, and the pain;
They biteth til thou bleedeth, again and again, wings to expand
Expansional shift, I'll taketh mine flying arm's and I shalt uplift.
iii
Leaving suddenly, as they do sayeth, for only the good do die young, I shalt breatheth more easily, none more hatred, for the amour of the light I'm going to, I shalt succumb, mine senses wilt be ten fold the more than planet destruction earth, rebirthed.
iv
None more seeing war on the television screens, none more untruthful words, for others to bringeth me, none more reptillian like Creation's to killeth mine dream's, none more scream's, none more for those to breaketh me, a serene scene, of alien planet's.
v
None more hopeless romance, for I shalt haveth all the hope given, none more having to write on paper, mine soul shalt write by the dust trail's so splended, to be the cherub's inspiration, as cheribum shalt listen to me sing on set, this place for me to forget.
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
Jul 29, 2015
Jul 29, 2015 at 12:40 PM UTC
Out of the shadows, thou dost
After all times that thou lorned;
I hate mirrors and thee most
When fourteenth sun doeth horn—
When bright roses all afire'th
And sugars playeth with the air,
I condemn this very life
Whom of envy and unfair,
The lyrics from every tongue
Of just happy and in love,
To me biteth as the fang
Of thy serpent, of my scythe!
The scent of February
And its fortnight willeth come,
Subtle shade of jealousy
Upon all the Earth and man
Oh Valentine, thou hurteth
Thy caitiff flesh and spirit!
Oh, the fourteenth sun shall set
And our roads are to split!
Wilt thou come again?
Feb 13, 2020
Feb 13, 2020 at 8:29 PM UTC