Related quotes: Death is the only inescapable,...

Death is the only inescapable, unavoidable, sure thing. We are sentenced to die the day we're born.

quote by Gary Mark Gilmore
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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For that which is born death is certain, and for the dead birth is certain. Therefore grieve not over that which is unavoidable.

in Bhagavad Gita
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Grandma, I Never Knew You

I never knew you
You are my grandmother.
I get mad at God
For not giving me a chance
To know you.

You died ten years
Before I was born.

It breaks my heart
Every time I think
That I will never get
The chance to know you.
I look at your picture that hangs
Almost everyday.

I wonder if I have your eyes.
I wonder if I have your laugh.
I wonder if I have your smile.
I wonder if I have your nose.
I wonder if I have anything of you.

I guess I will never know
I guess I will never get to see you.

Death is the most tragic thing in life
Death is hard on me now than I was younger.
Death is what I have inside
Thinking of everyone that I have lost.

Death is forever
Death is longer than an eternity
Death is permanent
Death is a scar that never goes away.
Death is what I feel everyday
Death is what has to be.
Death is what is happening everyday.
Death is what no one knows for sure.
Death is what everyone goes through.

Death is the reason why I am the way I am
Death is what I fear…

poem by Kimberly Santistevan
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Death Bed

You do not have to be in a death bed
when it's your time to die.
It can happen in a grassy field
or on the sand where you lie.
It can happen on a ship at sea
or in a plane in the air.
It can occur while making love
or perhaps sitting in a chair.

And what does it matter where the last rattle comes?
The end is always the same.
The rich, the poor, the mighty, the meek
death will come to claim.
The important thing about dying is
how it levels the playing field.
None will be asked what they were
or if they were well-heeled.

For everyone is born to live
but more than that, born to die.
And the 'death bed'
is just a tiresome phrase
that's been used to dignify
death.

poem by Edwina Reizer
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The Welsh word for 'England' is 'Land that we Lost

More beautiful
than a beautiful thing
is the ruin
of a beautiful thing.

The most beautiful thing is
not to have been born

and, having been born
and reborn, death
is the only decent thing.

poem by Anthony Weir
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A man must be willing to die for justice. Death is an inescapable reality and men die daily, but good deeds live forever.

quote by Jesse Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Eve of My Death

The eve of my death, a baby was born, and this kept me alive.
The eve of my death, a baby took her first stumbling steps, and this kept me
alive.
The eve of my death, a school bus filled with laughing children drove away,
and this kept me alive.
The eve of my death, I looked out my window to see my child be swept
away to prom, and this kept me alive.
The eve of my death, my baby, my child reached out her hand to accept her
diploma, she is not a baby or a child any more, and this kept me alive.
The eve of my death, I walked with my daughter down the isle, and this kept
me alive.
The eve of my death, I held my new born grandson in my arms, and this kept
me alive.
The day of my death, I feel my grandson's tears hit me like a cool spring rain,
I see his father behind a podium an inch away from tears, I feel the
flowers on the casket that holds the only thing that keeps me alive.

poem by Stephen Howard
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Finding Perfection..Is It Death?

Anyone who has sought this has failed
Some even died trying
Can't you see?
It's just not there, no such thing exists
It has gone extinct when the world was born
They are all looking in the wrong places
Searching for something unheard of
No one deserves it, can find it, and can earn it
There's only one way to acheive it

Life's basic principle..is imperfection
And anyone seeking perfection
Shouldn't be breathing
Death is perfection
But hey, death is the worst thing, right?
So death cannot be perfection
The irony of it all..

poem by Candy Lemons
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Daughter of Death

I was born
Born to the blood of angels
Born through the veil of a storm
Born without love inside of me
Born with a need to perform
Born out of vengence
Born out of scorn
Born out of hatred
out of love torn
Born with a mission
Born with a drive
Born with a need
with a need to sruvive.
Now it's time to show you what i'm really about
no more pretentions;
No more frothing at the mouth
there's no use of hiding
all my sins deep inside
I'll wear them on my shoulder like a badge of pride
Cuz i'm the daughter of death
from my very first breath
i'm the daughter of death
blood red as macbeth
living a filthy mess
i'm a daughter of death
just a daughter of death
I was
Raised from buring ashes
Raised with tragic crime
Raised from cries of chaos
Raised on borrowed time
Raised by the darkness
Rasied by the night
Raised by the claws of fright
Raised to be hated
Riased to be loved
Riased to be doomed
By the powers above

poem by Brittany Cook
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Born Alone

Born alone to die alone
In between family is grown
And so many ties ar borne
Before it is all flown
On wings of death

Born alone to die alone
In between many hats are worn
Some to rejoice some to mourn
Before it is all blown
In winds of death

Born alone to die alone
In between unique spirit is shown
On the streets or on the throne
some to relive some to moan
in arms of death

poem by Mittur Ramprasad
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Life of My Death

My only difference
Between life and afterlife
is my death

My only triumph
upon the whole universe
is my death

My only freedom
of thoughts from mind
is my death

My only distinction
from the angels and devils
is my death

My only decision
after all my decisions
is my death

But death is short-lived
and the thing that pleases me
is my death

Life always presents span
and the shortest spanned
is my death

I can grasp everything
but the thing out of my bounds
is my death...

08-03-2008

poem by Usman Hanif
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Death is.....

Death is peaceful
Death is sharp pain in my heart
Death is feeling sadness
Death is deppresion
death is when my loved ones have gone away
Death is when i give up the fight
Death is when i cant think about whats right
Death is a good thing on my behalf
Death started when i gained life
Death is where ill go
Death is near
Death is what i see
Death lives inside of me
DEATH WILL STOP MY MISERY

poem by Angelique Paniagua
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It's Death Again

It's Death again - He's always there -
Watching, waiting - e'er the stare!
Every time I look behind
Or reach to pull the window blind,
I catch a glimpse of grubby hood -
A little clue to where he stood;
The glint of light that caught the scythe.
Perhaps if I could pay a tithe…
But O! no use, he'll never go.
The adamant phantom; don't you know
He will but wait until it's time
For me to hear His fateful chime? -
The toll that claims my destiny,
To Hail: 'You're next, it has to be…'

The Reign of Death

Death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death

poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To have the truth in your possession you can be found guilty, sentenced to death.

quote by Peter Tosh
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It is only in the light of the inescapable fact of death that a person can adequately engage and enter upon the mysterious fact of life.

quote by John E. Hines
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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X’mas

Born was a child in a manger;
Born was the son of God, the Father;
Born was the love of the Maker;
Born was for men, a Redeemer.

Born was a baby boy, a king;
Born was on earth a prophet great;
Born was the love of God in human form;
Born was a Messiah.

Born was a son of a carpenter;
Born was the king of Jews;
Born was the living God as flesh;
Born was a Savior.

Born was a babe, who brought,
Joy and peace to the world;
Born was a babe on a bed of hay,
As angels choirs kept singing on.

Born was the spotless Lamb of God
Who was to die on the cross;
Born was a divine child,
From the Virgin Mary’s womb!

Born was Lord Jesus Christ,
Who paid the price for our sins,
And by His death and resurrection,
Made it possible for sinners too,
To go to Heaven.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 12-25-2006

poem by John Celes
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Disingenuousness

Here lies another box for nature,
Carbon ready;
Black to eyes down here,
Where death is at its job.

Up there you’ll hear a rhythmic sob
Or two from living yet-to-dies –
A humming lacrimoso –
It all but cleans the eyes:

Forget it –
The dismal show of grief –
Life is only chemistry –
Our stay is only brief.
It’s we who hype it up!

Diaphragms jerk again;
The jet monotone of hearses
Feeds the disingenuousness
Of undertakers –
They seem to stare at something up ahead –
For them, it’s in the blood,
To taxi off the dead.

The March of Death

Death death death death death death death death death death death

poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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“death”

“ DEATH I SWHEN ALL SEEMS LOST
DEATH IS WHEN YOU HAVE TO SAY GOOD-BYE TO YOUR LOVED ONES
DEATH IS WHEN ALL YOU SEE ARE TEARS
DEATH IS WHEN YOU JUST DON’T CARE ‘
DEATH IS WHEN YOU FEEL LIKE EVERYTHING IS FALLING ON TOP OF YOU
DEATH IS WHEN THAT PERSON IS RE-BORN
DEATH IS GODS WAY OF SAYING YOUR TIME IS UP
DEATH IS GODS WAY OF SAYING I NEED YOU”

poem by Yeslin Salazar
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Belief is the religion

No life could be born
Without the fusion of sperm and ovum.
No life could end with out a death.
Christ was born, Krishn was born,
Rama was born, without a sperm.
No one born could escape death.
Christ vanished, Krishn vanished,
Rama vanished, without a death.

We are told to believe and we do.
It is called religion
08.10.2003

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Father Death Blues

Hey Father Death, I'm flying home
Hey poor man, you're all alone
Hey old daddy, I know where I'm going

Father Death, Don't cry any more
Mama's there, underneath the floor
Brother Death, please mind the store

Old Aunty Death Don't hide your bones
Old Uncle Death I hear your groans
O Sister Death how sweet your moans

O Children Deaths go breathe your breaths
Sobbing breasts'll ease your Deaths
Pain is gone, tears take the rest

Genius Death your art is done
Lover Death your body's gone
Father Death I'm coming home

Guru Death your words are true
Teacher Death I do thank you
For inspiring me to sing this Blues

Buddha Death, I wake with you
Dharma Death, your mind is new
Sangha Death, we'll work it through

Suffering is what was born
Ignorance made me forlorn
Tearful truths I cannot scorn

Father Breath once more farewell
Birth you gave was no thing ill
My heart is still, as time will tell.

poem by Allen Ginsberg
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Death

The journey of death, I think of dying as it were
a sleeping process which it brings our thoughts
the illusion of angel's, heaven, clouds and paradise,
we see ourselves in a utopia dream world,
that brings us peace and harmony. Death is a
sad word; a word that is continually present with
melancholy thoughts that haunts the mind. I always
dismiss it from my mind, but always comes back.
It's there always trying to torment me, maybe if death
wasn't so enigmatic and dreadful, our thoughts would
change. We wouldn't think about it at all. When I think
of the old age, is like thinking, death is near, it's the
nearest thing to old age. Death, death is like a cold
and lonely sigh, Death, it comes like thieves in the
night, it takes you and it wont give you a notice nor a
warning. A deep anguish takes over our feelings;
death is a sad word, An empty sensation and a huge
grief, that torture's the soul and mind. Death we can't
defeated, escape or make it null. A reminder each
day that time will eventually stop and become eternal.
Death the only sure thing we inherit from the second
we are born, death, death, I cannot comprehend the
purpose to all, we struggle in our journey in every way,
to at the end, become dust in the wind, and then after
time has past, not even a vestige of us.

poem by Elenushka Toledo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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