What’s to come….

Watch this space for words of wisdom from the great Poets of our world….those that have lived, died….and that have made their mark upon this world….

A Dream Within a Dream

Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow….
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.
I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And i hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand….
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While i weep….while i weep!
O God! can i not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can i not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?

Edgar Allan Poe


The Circle

Bleed, terror, drones and dust
We figure you out
You figure us
What blinks in between the trenches now?
That feeling you have
We wonder how

many times must we say the same things?
How many ways to scream murder
And pain
They dwell deep within the doors
The windows
Your core

has nothing to do with this war and this fight
“The battle is won!”
No my friendly foe and fate
Not tonight
It is ‘not’ done

that way anymore
We simply cannot contain this purge
This hell fire burns and bane
Is all that this world can contain?
In its fiery bosom
We fuss about and try to
revive ourselves within the blue flames
But instead we burn brighter than ever

we say what has been said
That there is wonder and woe to be had
With or without you we fight
This war as it rampages skyward and into
The night we devour ourselves with hope and dreams that daily
Are made real as real can be
Without the world collapsing onto you

again here at your window I am
Sorry to hear of her passing
I am
Sorry to know that you did nothing about it
Even as she whispered for your name while
Falling into the pit of lost redemption
You are pathetic you creature of dark
And once again you ignite that inner choice
the choice for a spark

To fall from the heavens and save you
To save us
no more will they help our kind
No more will they help us find the word
That describes our judgement
Our faith and
Our salvation
Our trust
In this damnation
Of lust and renewal we find ourselves
Lost again at the start of new things and
Old ways part from our being
Our bodies and mind fuse with the aide
Of the heartstrings
Yes we fade once again

I say goodbye to you o woeful child
Your ache and death has been most mild
Upon this earthen floor I will
Watch as you delve deeper
Into the war for love
For hate
You are the maker of your

has no more power here
We are broken and are thus
Made clear as we strive for that which cannot be
An ending to all that is real
An ending for all
As we sound the call
An ending for him
The ending for her
The child
The mother
Father and here we make our stand

Goodbye my friend
Your timely demise is finally
At hand….

Gabriel Michael Selwyn Francis



It is so hateful, harsh and cold
in this land, this place
this hold

a song to bring you comfort clear
to warm your face, your fears
your fold

no tears must fall from you
tonight, nor from the eyes
that sway the light

no call must sound unto the hells
a banshee cry
to melt the shells

the answers lie within the dew
within the home, the hold
the true

a song to bring all but the wind
a tune to muster, mute
the flind

they creep into the visions
blurred, into the night
they will take flight

return again and soon once more
return to hell, to home
and shore

the cold it reeks, it stings
the meek, it swallows all
they ever fall

it brings us spring
a winter’s wail, no autumn here
nor summer veil

nay i say, for all is lost
the Winter-Born bears all
with frost

 Gabriel Michael Selwyn Francis



Things are lost
They are taken
To the painters
Small and fainting
Sweet and tall
The heavens look
They fly before
They read
From books

All time will fail
To notice them
All trust will find
A notice when
The enemy knocks
And enters here
And then they’ll see
What matters clear
That things aren’t
They are not taken
They are but dust
They are forsaken
Hell’s an image
Forged in fear
The eyes we use
They lie my dear

They sing to you
Of doves and joy
Of loving us
O love
a ploy
We are but few
That know what’s true
We are but simple
Sullen mules
We seek all knowing
Ever gazing
We reek of boasting

Things that live and lie
In truth
They are but normal
We are proof

Gabriel Michael Selwyn Francis


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