In shrilling silence, my moans of defiance subside;
Falling tears no one hears, drop and drop, midst my drear.
In all these years, I've never cried the way I've cried;
Each drop shatters the silence in echoes of past years.
No sun shines today; even the heavens mock my pain,
A bitter cold that scolds the lover, borne you away
And stole you back from those angels in their jealous vein.
Within his sepulcher, in darkest silence, my love will reign.
Christmas lights are all in pain,
every year they are the same.
Glowing on my darkest days,
shining through me - there is space.
Snowman without any name,
standing hollow on it's grave.
Waiting for the sun to shine,
bring him back to peace, to fly.
Standing under the mistletoe,
I'm not empty - just alone.
My now is no different from the past,
but hopefully for the future it's the last.
The gravity of her question turning my insides brown
Her seeking the truth slowly destroying my fragile crown
I gasped for air trying to compose myself
How do I tell a child that her mother has been taken, a truth so heavy buried in our darkest shelf
Her only crime was raising her voice
How could she be equal to the great man who runs our life
To defy the every being of an egoistical clan
I uttered the most dreadful words in our land
"Your voice is a truth the world needs, my dear"
She grinned from ear to ear
Knowing deep down the lies I told for her to live another year
If only I could muster the courage to challenge the blatant atrocities,
Slowly eyes wandering to my inflicted permanent disabilities
Questioning everyone who claims to be the beacon of peace
Deep down still hoping for the suffering to ease
I’d be mad at the world
If you suddenly decided to write your story with a rope
Tied to a ceiling
Or a razor
Glided against your pulse
No one goes out without a story
And your story wasn't perfect
No one's is
But you couldn't write some things in your story
And in your story someone else altered it
To hurt you
So
Some pages are torn and wrinkled
I don't think you can mend all the pages
You can't fully straighten a crumpled paper ball
But you can smooth it out
And try as best as you can to fix it
There will always be scars
Trust me
But scars are healed wounds
And you can alter the future of your story
Always
And scars can fade over time
Or till they leave a tiny mark
Therefore
If your story got too long
And too dark
I wouldn't remember how you went out
Because I'd be too angry at the world
But I'd remember your mark.
-D.B
Though blitzkrieg bombs drop like rain
We Brits shall smile with shear disdain
My Cuban cigar now bursts aflame
Like a dawn that ends our darkest hour
And burnt tobacco falls from its tip
Like future Nazi ashes they drip
From the bloody jaws of victory we will snatch defeat
I shall grab my bowler and cane to stroll down Downing Street.
One man's darkest hour, blackest night,
was when there was nothing left to fight.
October 4, 2025
Beneath the sky hot and ablaze with fire
A man lays in wait, contemplating desire
For whatever he chooses, the fates in his hand
The choice that is taken will be felt ‘round the land
With so many wrongs that need be made right
With so many reasons to end this long fight
He waits in the wings with the gavel and sound
Blocking out visions of those lost and not found
For he has been chosen to make up the minds
Of the people who trust him, or are looking to find
A leader with peace on his mind and his heart
Guidance that will set this world apart.
Smoke coils over silent streets,
shadows crawl along cold stone walls.
Fear whispers in every corridor,
doubt clings to every heartbeat.
He stands alone,
shoulders bent under the weight of a nation,
eyes tracing the enemy’s invisible march.
Words become torches in the darkness,
pausing, trembling, yet defiant.
Courage is not the absence of fear,
it is standing
when the world expects you to fall.
Through smoke and shadow,
he moves like fire in frozen air,
and even the night flinches.
The soul deepens night
shadows swell as sorrow stews
silencing insight
in the hours most forsaken
when heart only hears echoes
Darkness folds inward,
into a starless cavern
cloistered yet alive
with what a closed eye can't see
when the spirit walks alone
Just before the dawn
when the blackness feels complete
the soul flares with fire
in the void it finds solace
a flame that was always there
THE LION IN THE WINTER
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
May, nineteen-forty~
France bleeds out,
a crimson tide.
jackboots goose-step across Europe,
a continent silenced
gagged by swastikas.
They thought him broken~
the old lion, his mane frosted,
a relic of an empire,
a voice too gravelly,
a toothless roar,
too old.
September bleeds
into a desperate autumn.
He sees the maps,
the relentless gray advance~
the English channel
a fragile moat against the tide
of Reitstiefel und Hakenkreuze.
He stands,
a lion in the winter,
and roars:
“We shall fight on the beaches,
we shall fight on the landing grounds,
we shall fight in the fields and in the streets,
we shall fight in the hills;
we shall never surrender.
His words, like granite,
hang in the air,
thick with battlefield smoke
and hope~
hurled against the storm,
a lifeline thrown to a teetering nation.
The island stands,
Churchill’s darkest hour,
forged into a beacon.
Reitstiefel und Hakenkreuze. (army boots and swastikas)
Darkest Poems With Coffee
Darkest Poems With Coffee
Released on August, 28th 2025
Hard work pays off
4th book I’ve published
Have a keen I for detail
I’m beyond grateful
Maybe a bronze metal
I’ve been writing for 6 years
Document poems here and there
Consumed by pen and paper
Be inspired to sharpen your writing skills
I’ve finally reached #1,000 poems
I’m always behind with my work
In solitude behind closed doors
All my books are on Amazon
Just type in my name, Charles Gadbois
Thanks for all of your support
The love of poetry endeavor
Read in between the lines
Before the ink runs dry
A Story of Santosh that was entangled in grief
It was just another day, he thought
He stepped out of the house with his family to return
Unaware of the danger awaiting at the accident spot
He and his wife, children went out jolly, talking about
They got onto the bike and went for a ride as usual
Oh, Santosh, if at all you knew
Your day ends in a dreadful growl
You are broken and bleeding, growling on the side of the road
Wounded, wondered who would save his loving family lying a distance away
His wife watches from afar helplessly, two kids and her husband mourning uncontrolled
Oh, that dreadful day, will they ever forget the misery life has thrown
The death of his only budding toddler, struggling to breathe and left the world reeling
If at all, he knows the danger ahead.
His family would be living safely and securely
Santosh had to pass this day and face the pain as long as he is alive
God allowed this, and they have to let go; their sorrows and pain
Which seems to be healed but remains fresh in life, displeased
Life gives joy and sorrows; smile in your good days and cry when no one sees
Even the darkest night will end
And the sun will rise
Will you come to see me then
I’ll be quite surprised
Same as you - what an encounter
You would giggle at me
Love, it seems that I have found you
I’d reply to thee
The harsh reality, however
Extends that miserable night
Though the sun beats down like never
In its dazzling summer light
There’s no sign of us together
Like sometime we used to be
And too tall has grown the heather
On the path to copper tree.
The darkest hour comes with pain that's insane,
Excruciating, unrelenting pain.
The sobbing and gasping are so abrupt.
The heart is broken; the body gives up.
The darkest hour tries to take control,
Searching through the suffering for the soul.
Disillusioning evil tells a lie.
“Death will set you free, so let yourself die.”
Numbness begins to smother the feeling.
The chaos of your mind sends you reeling.
In time you know there must be a reason
To continue at least for a season.
Looking deep within, you search for the light,
A seed of love to help you through the night.
I want to buy a wardrobe,
And in it I place my name
In the top left corner
Of its darkest spot.
I want to buy a wardrobe
And in it put a billion chambers,
To keep my name safe
From vultures aimed
To pounce tiger like
And tear it into pieces.
I want to hide my name,
From the sadistic and narcissistic
Individuals aimed to put a show
And from it their fame
Grows
Heart hurt to smithereens.
I want to hide my name,
In the many chambers
Of my wardrobe
Made of finest of steel
And many padlocks
To shield it from scavengers sharp claws
Stinking hold of its skin.
The name I want to hide,
Is bleeding with a fire
That does not burn
Busy on Kabale streets
Sweeping the floor clean
And babbling on all town walls
Of a native
That ashames the kin
And the nation at large
I want to hide my name.
I want to buy a wardrobe,
And in it I lay my name
In the top right corner
Of its brightest spot.
And only then,
Will My name be free...
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