The Wretched Gather

The wretched gather

This place of drink and of smoke

Bright lights and promise

Weeks wages folded neatly

Hidden in their Sunday best

There is no preacher

No pews, no heavenly choir

To welcome the flock

Yet hope for the future lives

In each pull, in each hand dealt

Praying for riches

To resurrect their belief

In this countries dream


~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Were Today Thy Last (Sonnet)

Were today thy last, wouldst thou giveth all ye had,

Or wouldst thou hoardeth as the miser does.

Hiding his worth from all his lasses and lads,

Vowing to take it with him as if thy soul it was.


Foolish art thou who believeth this lie,

For nothing of this world shalt survive the beyond.

To ash it doth turn on the day that we die,

It matters not how precious nor how fond.


Thy treasures are but bobbles, no worth doth they hold,

Once thou hath taken thy deep and final breath.

Arrogance and greed, both foolhardy and bold,

Revealed as thou art lowered to thy grave upon death.


Giveth now with the fullest of hearts for thy time upon earth is but brief,

Resulting in lightness and joy in thy heart to thy soul this shalt come as relief.


~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~


A Life of Extravagance (Sonnet)

A life of extravagance looming large;

From gilded palace to jewelled robe.

Shepherd of man has failed his charge,

Faithful bewildered as xenophobe.

You undermine your Pope a spirit most humble,

For luxuries beyond the common man.

While continuing forth to suffer and stumble,

Creating a gluttons promised land.

You have lost all sight of your earthly charge,

Succumbing to frailties supposed immune.

Enshrined in greed and an ego large,

Treating your sheep as courtly buffoons.

Soon before God you will stand for your digression,

Praying to be spared Hell for your foolish obsession.


~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Farewell Knights Templar

Image Credit:

Image Credit:

The blood curdling scream from the dungeon below,

Made John pray to God for the hangman’s gallows.

This soldier of God stripped of vestments so pure,

Now nameless and faceless a test he was sure.


I’ve done what was asked by king, country and Pope

In exchange for a promise to Heaven elope.

If I fall in battle to those savages in the east,

To sling, bow and arrow or some other horrid beast.


Instead I’m betrayed by the kinsman I protect;

By cowards and fools those insignificant specks.,

Hiding behind crown whilst I lay on this rack,

Fingers and toes broke while they flail on my back.


These charges of heresy are baseless and false,

I’ll deny to my death, to my last beating pulse.

Phillip IV King of motherland France,

Cooked up this scheme devious to embolden his stance.


Our riches and land to be his at all costs,

No matter the lives of the Templar that are lost.

Castle and fortress captured by the crown,

Confiscated before Pope Clement could resound.


This murderous thief will be judged before God,

Without royal finements, naked and unshod.

Surely he’ll be banished to Hades for his crimes,

Whilst I’ll be looking down on his torment for all times.


Justice will be served though draw and quarter is my fate,

I long for the Lord at Saint Peter’s pearly gate.

For the righteous will receive promised Heaven’s just due,

Whilst river of fire awaits souls of evil to be threw.


Soon my dear comrades in paradise I will join,

Those of you who’ve gone before by the heathen on the coin.

We’ll reap our sweet vengeance on this coward of the throne,

He’ll burn in Hell, consumed by fire, for eternity alone.


~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~