Tag Archives: satan

He’s Scorching The Earth

He’s scorching the earth;

Smell of sulfur permeates

From Hell’s fiery pit.

Long buried deep underground

His minions have arisen;

Blindly following

Abaddon’s vile deception

Like mindless rabble,

Anarchists legitimized

By the greatest deceiver.

 

Now’s the time for the

Thundering of the Shofar!

Time to declare war

In our fight for decency…

This nation’s identity.

 

We must not succumb

To conspiracy theories,

To the Fallen’s lies.

He will not be your savior

But instead your worst nightmare.

 

There’s still time…repent!,

Wake up before it’s too late

From this horrid dream.

We deserve better than this

Better than this Satan’s lies.

 

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

Angels And Demons

Angels and Demons

Share in this magical place,

This world of man.

What lies between us and them

Is a thin vail disguised as faith.

The faithless believe

There is no God, no Heaven,

There is no Hell, no darkness,

No Lucifer, no Angels,

No war between good and evil,

But they are just fooling themselves.

Call upon them, will them into the light

And they will surely make their presence known.

Look out your window, read the news,

Remember your best and worst dreams,

You will see the unseen at work.

Deny they exist if you must,

But know they live,

Just beyond the reach…

Of your five mortal senses.

 

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

On the Breath of the Hideous Beast

On the breath of the hideous beast,

The musk of man most surely seeped through.

To him her throat was like an elaborate feast,

As his clawed hands wound, her fear grew.

~

Her hair a mix of auburn tangle and knot,

From chase through thicket sharp and deep.

The witches coven in a diabolical plot,

Souls unsuspecting they hoped to reap.

~

This fairest maiden, a nymph to be sure,

Was sacrificed to Hell on Albatross wing.

As Satan’s minion fulfills their lore,

Discordant the coven dances and sings.

~

Then the unlikeliest of heroes appeared,

A mendicant cloaked in camels hair robe.

Wielding a sword Templar cross in it was seared,

Though the Templars had vanished long ago I was told.

~

Under Mother Ursa Minor, Polaris brightly shining,

The fleet-footed beggar struck a single fatal blow.

Striking the beast’s skull tangerine sparks blinding,

Sending him to Hell whence he came down below.

~

Lowering his hood the beggar glowed unearthly white,

This man was not a man as we assumed.

Pointing his sword up to Heaven and the night,

He disappeared banishing the coven to the gloom.

~

The beggar–an angel sent from Almighty I suppose,

Will the wonders from above never cease.

Sent to save us all from God’s worst demonic foes,

Guiding us into eternal peace.

~

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

~

Writing Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Wordle #5

Fraught With Danger (Sonnet)

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 ~~

 

Gather Round Ye Respectable Folk

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

Out of Fear

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

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 ~~

 

The Bog – A Dark Poem

As fading light danced with drifting fog,

Eerily drawn am I towards croak of frog.

Fast approach ‘cross soggy ground

Within an instant airs void of sound.

No frog, no cricket, no mosquitoes buzz,

For just a moment lost I was.

Then sound of sucking, foot in mud,

Terrified of dying, death in cold blood.

In fear for my life standing stone still,

Uncontrollable shivers as if a cold chill.

Slivers of light from cloud covered moon,

Praying to God it would be over soon.

Out of the shadows arose fanged beast,

Reason why sounds of nature had ceased.

Standing a head taller than tallest man I knew,

Sabre from sheath like lightning I drew.

Mustering courage for fear of flight,

I stood my ground determined I would fight.

From the shadow he stalked nose to the wind,

Catching my scent certain I had sinned.

For what reason would God unleash Satan’s fury,

Except in the hopes under bogs mire bury.

The glint of my blade must have captured his eye,

Like a cat through the swamp grass this evil did fly.

With the swipe of his hand claws hit their mark,

For barely a second the whole world went dark.

Such is my luck that the sabre stayed grasped,

Struggling to my feet with a faint thrust he gasped.

Blood on my blade proved the devil had been hit,

He stumbled and roared and crimson he did spit.

Shaking off the fog and the pain in my chest,

Determined to lay this monster to rest.

I trudged through the mud not a second to spare,

With razor sharp edged to the hilt I did bear.

Snapping his jaws his tail cracked like a whip,

Avoiding the fork as I tottered and slipped.

His anger was evident by his blood curdling cry,

To finish him off it was certain do or die.

Taking his tail with one mighty blow,

It continued to move as if putting staging a show.

With beast so distracted by the lose of his tail,

His color of skin turned obsidian to pale.

I drew back once more committed to his end,

Slice through his neck at the spine blade did bend.

As if made of marble all his thrashing came to a stop,

His head tilted forward, to his knees he did drop.

His eyes that did once glow a fiery red,

Turned a dull shade of black, I knew he was dead.

Exhausted and terrified I fell to the ground,

All of natures creatures carried on their sound.

Thing born of nightmares to be consumed by the bog,

Sinking ever slowly ne’er rising hence to slog.

.

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~