Darkness – By: Lord Byron

I had a dream, which was not all a dream.

The bright sun was extinguished, and the stars

Did wander darkling in the eternal space,

Rayless, and pathless, and the icy earth

Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air;

Morn came and went—and came, and brought no day,

And men forgot their passions in the dread

Of this their desolation; and all hearts

Were chilled into a selfish prayer for light;

And they did live by watchfires—and the thrones,

The palaces of crowned kings—the huts,

The habitations of all things which dwell,

Were burnt for beacons; cities were consumed,

And men were gathered round their blazing homes

To look once more into each other’s face;

Happy were those which dwelt within the eye

Of the volcanoes, and their mountain-torch;

A fearful hope was all the world contained;

Forests were set on fire—but hour by hour

They fell and faded—and the crackling trunks

Extinguished with a crash—and all was black.

The brows of men by the despairing light

Wore an unearthly aspect, as by fits

The flashes fell upon them: some lay down

And hid their eyes and wept; and some did rest

Their chins upon their clenched hands, and smiled;

And others hurried to and fro, and fed

Their funeral piles with fuel, and looked up

With mad disquietude on the dull sky,

The pall of a past world; and then again

With curses cast them down upon the dust,

And gnashed their teeth and howled; the wild birds shrieked,

And, terrified, did flutter on the ground,

And flap their useless wings; the wildest brutes

Came tame and tremulous; and vipers crawled

And twined themselves among the multitude,

Hissing, but stingless—they were slain for food;

And War, which for a moment was no more,

Did glut himself again;—a meal was bought

With blood, and each sate sullenly apart

Gorging himself in gloom: no love was left;

All earth was but one thought—and that was death,

Immediate and inglorious; and the pang

Of famine fed upon all entrails—men

Died, and their bones were tombless as their flesh;

The meagre by the meagre were devoured,

Even dogs assailed their masters, all save one,

And he was faithful to a corse, and kept

The birds and beasts and famished men at bay,

Till hunger clung them, or the drooping dead

Lured their lank jaws; himself sought out no food,

But with a piteous and perpetual moan,

And a quick desolate cry, licking the hand

Which answered not with a caress—he died.

The crowd was famished by degrees; but two

Of an enormous city did survive,

And they were enemies: they met beside

The dying embers of an altar-place

Where had been heaped a mass of holy things

For an unholy usage: they raked up,

And shivering scraped with their cold skeleton hands

The feeble ashes, and their feeble breath

Blew for a little life, and made a flame

Which was a mockery; then they lifted up

Their eyes as it grew lighter, and beheld

Each other’s aspects—saw, and shrieked, and died—

Even of their mutual hideousness they died,

Unknowing who he was upon whose brow

Famine had written Fiend. The world was void,

The populous and the powerful was a lump,

Seasonless, herbless, treeless, manless, lifeless—

A lump of death—a chaos of hard clay.

The rivers, lakes, and ocean all stood still,

And nothing stirred within their silent depths;

Ships sailorless lay rotting on the sea,

And their masts fell down piecemeal; as they dropped

They slept on the abyss without a surge—

The waves were dead; the tides were in their grave,

The Moon, their mistress, had expired before;

The winds were withered in the stagnant air,

And the clouds perished! Darkness had no need

Of aid from them—She was the Universe!






How far can a person go to fulfill the dream’s of someone else?

Read Dream’s Sake to find out. Click on the picture for reviews and free preview of the novel


Still Here – By: Langston Hughes

I been scared and battered.

My hopes the wind done scattered.

Snow has friz me,

Sun has baked me,

Looks like between ’em they done

Tried to make me

Stop laughin’, stop lovin’, stop livin’–

But I don’t care!

I’m still here!






How far can a person go to fulfill the dream’s of someone else?

Read Dream’s Sake to find out. Click on the picture for reviews and free preview of the novel

Faith- By: Robert Service

I had this poem sitting in my notebook since past three days. But you see, my other great love came in way of my posting it. My other great love is love of gadgets. Poetry and gadgets, strange combination, I know. But what to do. I love them both!

Well, so my android phone got upgraded. And of course, I could not be at peace till I had explored all its latest wonders and fixed it up to my utmost satisfaction.

I did not exactly forget the poetry while playing with my phone. I downloaded a wonderful app called 888 Great Poems. Yes, it has exactly what the title says. 888 great poems. Though the earlier poems were totally beyond me as they seemed to be written an entirely a different language.

But the following poem poses no such difficulty. Have a look. Do let me know what you think of it:

 ~ Faith ~

Since all that is was ever bound to be;

Since grim, eternal laws our Being bind;

And both the riddle and the answer find,

And both the carnage and the calm decree;

Since plain within the Book of Destiny

Is written all the journey of mankind

Inexorably to the end, since blind

And mortal puppets playing parts are we:

Then let’s have faith; good cometh out of ill;

The power that shaped the strife shall end the strife;

Then let’s bow down before the Unknown Will;

Fight on, believing all is well with life;

Seeing within the worst of War’s red rage

The gleam, the glory of the Golden Age.






How far can a person go to fulfill the dream’s of someone else?

Read Dream’s Sake to find out. Click on the picture for reviews and free preview of the novel

This is the age of science – By: Roy J. Cook

This is the age of science, of steel — of speed and the cement road. The age of

hard faces and hard highways. Science and steel demand the medium of

prose. Speed requires only the look — the gesture. What need then, for poetry?

Great need!

There are souls, in these noise-tired times, that turn aside into unfrequented

lanes, where the deep woods have harbored the fragrances of many a

blossoming season. Here the light, filtering through perfect forms, arranges

itself in lovely patterns for those who perceive beauty…

Roy J. Cook






How far can a person go to fulfill the dream’s of someone else?

Read Dream’s Sake to find out. Click on the picture for reviews and free preview of the novel