Related quotes
Death Is The End
Death Is The End,
Death Is Sadness,
Death Is Dark,
Death Is Light,
Death Is The End To Your Short Life,
Death Is The Begining To Your Eternal Life,
Death Isn't The End,
Death Isn't Sadness,
Death Is Happyness,
Death Is Your Final Rest,
Death Is Your Second And Final Begining,
Death Is Your Rebirth,
Death Is Final...........
In Death, My Final Part
A tower grim; a glowering darkness,
And only brown of red the other hue
– I saw it in the distant eyes –
And yes, He knew, but focussed only
On the mortal soul of mine –
After all, He had a role to play,
And wine: my shivering blood to quaff!
If only I could Him betray –
To break the seal of destiny;
Escape the lone cacophony
That emanates from wailing minds!
Damn the fate of His – it awes and blinds!
But oh! the mighty hammer strikes a toll;
The slow approach of Him upon the knoll
Commences exudation of a dying heart.
Endorsing all, I honed my final part.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
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The final part
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Death in Reflection
Am I you
And are you me –
So each other we can see?
And do you think the way I do –
Feel the pain I’m going through?
Mull on thoughts the same as I –
Wonder why you always cry?
See me shriveled with disease –
Shrinking down on crumpled knees?
Look away from sight of age –
Reading now the final page?
Study you those darkened eyes –
Portentous now of close demise?
Smitten so to say farewell –
For us together in death excel?
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
death death death death death death death death death
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Before Death
Before death
you wanted to kiss
the girl in the lift
whom you rode with
silently each day,
wanted to read
War and Peace,
wanted to listen
to the whole
of Wagner’s Ring,
wanted to write a poem
in Japanese,
touch the dress
Marilyn Monroe
wore in that famous film,
feel the embrace
of your late father’s arms.
Before death
you wanted to sing
a Puccini aria,
look into the eyes
of your first dead love,
make love
for the final time,
climb Everest,
drink your last
glass of booze,
see your final dawn,
hold onto your final breath,
before your death.
poem by Terry Collett
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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…'
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
The Reign of Death
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Our Final Farewell
To say our final farewell it happend not that long ago.
Our final farewell, I remember it so clearly.
Our final farewell, I remember your smile.
Our final farewell, I remember how proud you were
that you got promoted.
Our final farewell, happened like any 'goodbye'.
Our final farewell, you seemed happy.
Our final farewell, you seemed to enjoy life.
Our final farewell, you seemed to enjoy everything,
Our final farewell, I remember the conversation.
Our final farewell, sometimes haunts me.
Our final farewell, happened so quick.
Our final farewell, I didn't know that it was going to
be our last.
Our final farewell, happened more then a year ago
Your final farewell, happened on the 15/11/05 as you
took your own life.
poem by Nikki Hamilton
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Psycho Man
The midnight hour approaches
The killing chill takes over him
His victims will not know when he appears
The lust of death's possetion
Will overtake his psycho mind
He won't be happy till he smells their fear
chorus:
(he's the angel of death)
Psycho man, psycho man, looking for a victim wherever he can
(he's the angel of death)
Psycho man, psycho man, he's a killer
Addicted to the menace
That taste of death that lives within
He loves it when he takes their final breath
Stalking is his pleasure
Killing is the final act
He takes no pity in his lust for death
chorus
(Guitar Solo)
(he's the angel of death)x2
chorus
song performed by by Black Sabbath
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
The March of Death
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Final Death Bed Redemption?
what is this vision
a human skeleton
praying upon knees?
arms outstretched palms
pressed together skull
raised toward heaven?
is this hope sought
final death bed atonement
redemption salvation?
is this pious final proof
of saint life lead consummation
or final life parted confession?
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Death and I
When death comes
I’ll need not love –
Consumed,
No wreath or dove
Could offer me salvation,
Not when I’m no more.
A weathered stone will bear my name –
Identity of once a being
Living out existence in
A world of risk, and never seeing
Sense of why we’re here.
My genes will die away thro’ child –
Hue of eyes and hair, the way of thought,
Will quickly dim with generation –
Bow to future dominance –
Memories of provenance
Resigned to curious few.
When death comes
I’ll need not grace
Below; no grieving face
Will call my resurrection,
Not when I’m at ground –
Death and I so bound.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
D eath Crawl
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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The Resonant Dream
The final dream
So resonant and pure
The final dream
Will never be at its end
Its long journey almost o'er
The final dream
Has just begun
To rattle the fate at hand
The final dream
Is as pure as gold
It is perfect and will stand
The final dream
Will never come to a close
Yet it has a happy hand
The final dream
Is a grand dream
That turns the time of sand
The final dream
Is such a dream
That it is now near its end
poem by Alex Fischer
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Death, My Salvation
Death, the never-ending blackness,
From where comes no man back
It is to this emptiness
That my heart calls out to me.
Death, the blissful deliverance,
Where each of us pay our debt
It is time that I paid
A visit to my banker
Death, the final frontier
A place unrestrained
It is to this freedom
That my will hails me to go.
Death, my shadow
A shadow, with me day and night
Come rain or sun, happiness or sadness
It never leaves my side.
Death, my only friend,
My only salvation
poem by Arun George
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The final act
Screeching screams.
Sirens blaring out.
Someone knows just what I'm trying to do.
But the pills I alreay swallowed.
It was with grate ease.
Then comes the whirlwind of a spin.
And all your head will do is spin.
You know just what you want.
You want death not life.
You just want a means to an end.
But some fall finds out.
Ambulance and police arrive.
Knocking at the door.
Bludy idiots think I'll answer the thing.
Its the final act I want my death.
They knock once more.
I hope they've gone away.
Next I no the door flys through.
In the they come.
Its not oo late.
Off to the hospital she goes.
It was to be final act
But this time it wasnt to be
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
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Death, Inevitable Death
Death, inevitable Death.
So now You come to show Your world,
Hence the blackened cloak – unfurled.
And peering down upon my form
– Bereft of pity – Your eyes of storm.
Death, inexorable Death.
‘When? ’ The only question out of Thee.
My dream retorts 'But ne’er for me! ’
But now awake, I bid you so –
My giving tears cry ‘Where to go? ’
Death, adamant Death.
You cast Your spell and guide me 'way,
For life and I have had our day.
And what of me? I prey You, tell!
Be glorious in Heaven or gnarled in Hell?
Death, ineluctable Death.
Oh wiry ghoul, I'm here to follow –
I leave my body grey and shallow.
‘Come! ’ You bid in thund’ring tones,
‘Beg farewell to shattered bones.’
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
Death
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Death death
Death
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Death of Dreams
It’s simple
It’s sad
It’s images I can’t shake
The death of dreams seems so real
So close
It’s cruel
It’s terrible
It’s killing off hope
The death of dreams is real
It’s here
It’s pain
It’s misery
It’s ruining all that has ever been good
The death of dreams fills me up
It’s my own death
It’s horror
It’s tears
It’s the final stab in an already shattered heart
The death of dreams may be gone
But still, it has my soul
poem by Fae Sebastian
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Macabre Beauty
They say death is the end,
But I don't think so,
Death's an old friend,
Waiting for us to go,
Away from this realm,
When our job's over,
The world seems a dream,
That keeps on going forever.
They say death is dark,
As dark as coal,
Extinguishing life's spark,
Dragging into it's hole,
Little do they realize,
That this is nature's law,
So, why're they surprised,
For it's like this since long ago?
They consider death macabre,
For it's the final end,
Like a sharpened saber,
Cutting the delicate thread,
But though it may seem,
That death's always macabre,
But it does itself redeem,
By bringing a new future.
Strangely, I find myself at peace,
When I am not at ease,
I request death, oh please!
Have me from my bonds release!
Silently, death does it's duty,
Therein lies it's macabre beauty.
poem by Suvankar Sen
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Final Resting Place (Rictameter)
Final
resting places
beneath worm-ridden soil;
secrets bared only to demons.
They claw at tattered funeral garments,
to get to death's barterd souls.
Loved ones cry foolishly,
but nothing is
final
http: //allpoetry.com/poem/5518011
poem by Kim Schilling
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Death Came Knocking At My Door
Knocking at my door
Death came knocking at my door
HE SAID: my life would be no more.
He was coming to take me away
To a place where I would stay.
I would be there for all eternity
And that my soul was finally free.
It would be a happier place
Where I would see a friendly face.
I SAID: are you not the “ grim reaper’?
HE SAID: oh no! I was your guardian angel
Here on earth, and your guardian
Till you reach that final sleep.
And when you open your eyes again
You will be with family and friends.
I will help you to earn your wings
For in heaven, that’s the normal thing.
Not every death is with the reaper
A lot of this is so much deeper
You have been watched from your birth
And we know just what you’re worth.
You have helped so many in your life
With your thoughts and deeds
and with that you did exceed.
You will continue to help in death
as you did in life.
This is the final sacrifice
poem by Louis Rams
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A Fresh Endeavour
So now I've taken leave of life,
I thought you'd like to know, I still
Possess a mind in love, oh wife;
A soulful eye to catch a show of
Silent beauty – ever yours;
An ear to pick the metaphors
Of tonal dance in words you say,
Grasp a thought in verse you pray
Inside your head, bemused of mind,
Softly mournful, intertwined with
Understanding tears.
I'll drift a whisper o'er to you
To tell that I am quietly calm;
Keeping time till your adieu
To flesh, upon the carol of a
Psalm of consummation. Now!
A fresh endeavour – we're forever
One together, resting yonder,
Cross our open plane of blue.
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Raffles of Life
death fear and tremble every heart, a final
destination of every soul, of no where to
believe that death is not an exemption of
life but life after this life, it’s the end of
every beginning, nor the fate to
accept that it’s the final
happiness that man
has long waited for
in life
you don’t need to live because you want to die,
though, you have to die in order to live, the
meaning catches many stream in the
river and sea, every thing will be
happy, you may not find but you
may seek it, for in the end the
paradise is waiting
even the clouds have something to say
the night has been envying the day
the stones rushing the shore
to be seen, for in every
birds, there is feather
that flees
so why all have got there shared to be
raffle in life, the air breath has but
nothing to see, though the eyes
close vividly can feel, the
beauty of death, the
Prophets and
Messenger
always
shout
for
thee
as life comes and it may go, the raffles. seems
so easy when you’re Free.......
poem by Antonio Liao
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