Film Photography > Afterlife

Destruction Cloaks
Destruction Cloaks
35mm film Photography

She was singing in the rain
She said she likes the storms with the light bursting through the earth

Seeds revealing a green sprout
One sunbeam found a way
To create a new source of life.

So many of us took to the troubles
No one wants to listen to the news

While being Blindsided by Devastation and hate
On the outskirts of the rough edges
Of our own lives.

It nice to sing to those that are hurting
Elevate the depression with each call

Song patterns in the Melodies sheet music
Arpeggio and progression

The words are catchy
But not enough to be a meaningful

Through the grey and all the smoke
Destruction Cloaks and charred blankets strangling hope
Songs instead of bombs
A sanctuary of embraces
We are all Astral beings

They would always place the golden child with the kid that was deemed unfit for society
Separation from the start

Partners from different places
Hoping each would teach something to the next

Who decides who is more illuminated
And Which child can occupy a space
On the graves of all ancestral
of all?

When our blood all shines
In the dust of the
rough cuts.

No one can listen to the
Symphonic playground
Of laughter
Swirling trumpets and strings like guiding wires

Taking you and the children
over the perils to safety
Sandpits that dampen everything that falls
Some sort of security in this

When We were the horizon seekers
The ones that would stay up as late as possible for a new start
Just to watch days shift into each other

Hoping for peace in a resolute sunset
Some sort of sign to be given
A new beginning to an end

To the antipathy

Metamorphoses kicks and untied laces
Displaced from all the places
There’s a sucker stuck on a lamppost
A Ruby one
A Cherry pop

Stop and think who tumbled to dislodge
The sweetness
Curvatures and crevasse and bruises
Bodies along fences and wrapped
canvases of bleeding


I know there an island where they are giving away homes for cheap
Ones that still have roofs
The population is slipping and there’s not enough stories to go around
Or babies being made.

Music isn’t being strummed
how it use to be played
With the hearts drum

Just to take off the jagged edges
Of war and desolation

When need became greed
and we all watched the horror in the flames
Scrolling through fantasy

Schools without windows or walls and frames
Hospital with a burning corridor

No water to quench anything
It’s just charcoal and dirt
And screams of ghosts.
While we lost the most on repeat

The press is a pile of bones
Pens and phones
Indecipherable homes

Mirrorless gazes in Gaza

Where is humanities shine?

Terror rise
Tear errors
Terra size

Food doesn’t have any taste in the waste of the human race
Are we just broken culture and

The bottom of the well bucket is blown out
Doubts are piled on the shelf with artillery shells

The Weapons manufacturers are get richer
The stocks have quadrupled
Who fuelling who’s despair
Air sirens out a sink

It’s the terror choir in lamentations
No one has a voice that can heard
Bodies piled up with the blame
Even the innocent cannot remain.

No blessing or prayer or text or influencer or divine being can even be recognized anymore

It’s all Ai gospel
Horror movies are now children stories

Rattle of the dice in a empty cup
Teeth lost in the stones
No one is singing in the rain


Francis A Willey
October 28th 2023