The gathering storm
Perfect bout–Heaven and Hell
There are no victors
Yet we remain undeterred
Fighting ‘til our final day
~
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
The gathering storm
Perfect bout–Heaven and Hell
There are no victors
Yet we remain undeterred
Fighting ‘til our final day
~
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
My spirits journey
Visited ad nauseum
Questions no answers
Unresolved for a lifetime
A mystery ‘til the end
~
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Supernatural
Souls lost between provinces
Unable to leave
Reliving their earthly hell
Trapped in the netherworld
~
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Fraught with danger this daily walk,
As hand-in-hand we battle the foe.
Through foolish acts and foolish talk,
Into the darkness hence we go.
Faith–What faith we question still,
As answers yield no answers forth.
On hands and knees we climb the hill;
The devil tempts our mortal worth.
O’ the struggle, eternal test,
We try yet fail more oft’ than not.
Attempt as we may to do our best
It ends in sin and soul filled rot.
Yet for all our faults and feelings of loss
We’re assured of life through death on the cross.
.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Desert heats collapse
Banished back to whence it came
The abyss of Hell
Welcome the chill of Heaven
With falls gracious arrival
~
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Gather round ye respectable folk,
To witness God’s will be done.
Be still your plow and oxen under yolk,
Our cleansing has surely begun.
Ridding our midst of minions from Hell,
Let thy fires rage and consume.
At high noon on the ring of chapels twelfth bell,
Let thine sentence be seal of thy doom.
With bible in hand and righteous indignation,
The minister stern raises hand.
Tossing torch with a grin and pompous resignation,
Burning witches to ash by flames fanned.
Good Salem be freed from Satan’s cursed lot,
As thy God has so vocally commanded.
May their bodies for eternity lie in torment and rot,
Our morality, their souls remanded.
.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: The Salem witch trials occurred in colonial Massachusetts between 1692 and 1693. More than 200 people were accused of practicing witchcraft—the Devil’s magic—and 20 were executed. Eventually, the colony admitted the trials were a mistake and compensated the families of those convicted. Since then, the story of the trials has become synonymous with paranoia and injustice, and it continues to beguile the popular imagination more than 300 years later. More can be read at the Smithsonian Magazine website http://www.smithsonianmag.com/history-archaeology/brief-salem.html
It rides on horse with crimson eyes
Cleaved head its eternal quest
Hades resurrected, for centuries tries
Avenging soul the Devil blessed
.
By night the Hollow, Hell on earth
Onerous task in this Sleepy land
Demon slaughters for all its worth
Child and woman and man
.
Raise its head from unmarked grave
A task of a gruesome sort
Ne’er resting until craniums been saved
Ensure the wrath of the apocalypse four
.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Worshiped out of fear,
Afraid of divine retribution.
One which allowed murderers,
One which allowed adulterers,
With an apology,
To be King.
You toyed with creation,
Becoming angry as a child
Throwing tantrums
When deprived of your will.
Does death and destruction,
To all but the chosen
Sound reasonable and sane?
With Lucifer as a playmate perhaps.
“Here take my servant,
Do what you will with him,
But do not touch.”
Inflicted with relentless torment,
Sores, anxiety, persecution,
Fear of death,
The game is permitted to continue,
All with your blessing,
To see if he can be broken.
Is this how mercy is shown,
Torturing those that love you?
Finding sport in war and death
Both are waged eternally,
Some with your blessing
Some without,
Either way, surely with a smile.
Sending those in your image to their end
As pawns for your amusement,
This seems to be your sadistic way.
As a final act of brutality,
You offered your son up to despots,
Torturing and degrading him until death,
All to uphold your way of life
And save the monsters which you created.
Would a kind and merciful parent do this to his child,
Instilling them with fear,
Instead of promoting goodness and love?
This question must be answered!
Faith alone does not absolve you of responsibility
For the adulterated state of our being.
.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Soul searching…deep and bloody,
A soul pure in its ignorance, stunted in cynicism
Bleeds to dull the pain.
This pain is not physical–it is spiritual;
Like thirst, it is teased by the eternal mirage.
Crawling through the sand, it sifts through my fingers
As sand through an hourglass is bound to do,
Parched, I search on, confused.
History held the answer…their answer for their time,
Passed on, an amalgam of what the past held true.
Each thought they were right, that they knew,
Yet they knew no more than their predecessors,
Just as I know no more than mine.
So I hunt, swallowing pieces of the puzzle;
Never sure of the truth,
Always one piece short.
~
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Blistering cobbles
Setting fire to foots soul
On this road to Hell
~
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~