Related quotes: Death is a delightful hiding...

Death is a delightful hiding place for weary men.

quote by Herodotus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Death is delightful. Death is dawn, The waking from a weary night Of fevers unto truth and light.

quote by James Russell Lowell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No Hiding Place

Every time Ive run away from you
You searched me out and found me
I build a wall, surround myself
Youve found a way around it
Everywhere I go into this big old world
Youre just one step behind me
I turn around and there you are, ready to remind me
Woah, baby, let me, let me go
Honey dont you know
There is no hiding place, nowhere to go, nowhere safe
There is no hiding place
There is no where sale, to disappear without a trace
There is no hiding place
I walked the streets, I drank in bars
Tryin to forget you
I rode the subway end to end
I wish Id never met you
Its in your smile, the way you dress
A little on the wild side
I cant get away from you babe, no matter how I try
Woah, baby, let me, let me go
Honey dont you know
There is no hiding place, nowhere to go, nowhere safe
There is no hiding place
There is no where sale, to disappear without a trace
There is no hiding place
Woah never let me, let me go
Honey, dont you know
(repeat chorus)

song performed by by Foreigner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Live In A Hiding Place

There are times that I should try,
To be so much more alive
But if time was right then I would be with you again
Or do you worry that I try to avoid the point
And then deny
The time I spent deciding it was you again
It's when I live in a hiding place
It's the only way I feel safe
When I'm safe in a hiding place
(That's not hidden now)
I'm safe in a hiding place
It's the only way I feel safe
When I'm safe in a hiding place
And you're full of facts
But not things that could add up to words
Think about meaning more as an after word
As in afterward
I return but don't remain,
I'm impatient for a reason
To complain about winter,
Making me see through again
Or is it your damaged reply,
That makes me realize that
The more I try
The less that plans will help me comprehend again
So I live in a hiding place
It's the only way I feel safe
When I'm safe in a hiding place
(That's not hidden now)
I'm safe in a hiding place
It's the only way I feel safe
When I live in a hiding place
And you're full of facts
But not things that could add up to words
You think about meaning more as an after word
And you're full of facts
But not things that could add up to words
You think about meaning more as an after word
As in afterward

song performed by by Idlewild
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hiding Place

Hail sov'reign love that first began,
The scheme to rescue fallen man;
Hail matchless, free, eternal grace,
That gave my soul a Hiding-Place.

Against the God that rules the sky,
I fought with hands uplifted high;
Despis'd the mentions of his grace,
Too proud to seek a Hiding-Place.

Enwrapt in thick Egyptian night,
And fond of darkness more than light,
Madly I ran the sinful race,
Secure without a Hiding-Place.

But thus the eternal counsel ran,
Almighty Love arrest that man;
I felt the arrows of distress,
And saw that I'd no Hiding-Place.

Indignant Justice stood in view,
To Sina's fiery mount I flew;
But Justice cry'd with frowning face,
This mountain is no Hiding-Place.

Ere long a Heav'nly voice I heard,
And Mercy's angel form appear'd,
She led me on with placid pace,
To Jesus as my Hiding-Place.

Should storms of sevenfold thunder roll,
And shake the globe from pole to pole,
No flaming bolt should daunt my face,
For Jesus is my Hiding-Place.

On him almighty vengeance fell,
That must have sunk the world to hell:
He bore it for the chosen race,
And thus became their Hiding-Place.

A few more rolling suns at most,
Shall land us on fair Canaan's coast,
Where we shall sing the song of grace,
And see our glorious Hiding-Place.

poem by Major Henry Livingston Jr.
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lonesome Place

I got to leave this town.
It’s a lonesome place.
Got to leave this town cause
It’s a lonesome place.
A po’, po’ boy can’t
Find a friendly face.

Goin’ down to de river
Flowin’ deep an’ slow.
Goin’ down to de river
Deep an’ slow-
Cause there ain’t no worries
Where de waters go.

I’m weary, weary,
Weary, as I can be.
Weary, weary,
Weary as can be.
This life’s so weary,
‘S’ bout to overcome me.

poem by Langston Hughes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Gone To Forget To Leave

There are those who may choose to die.
For whatever reason...
Eyes are wanting to feel,
A realness and not a friction to absorb.
When platters of gold filled deceit,
Offer nothing else to be fed....
With a side order of sincerity seen,
Or felt to mention.

'Gone to forget to leave'

And the feasting of this is encouraged.

Until dishonesty is all that one dreads.
With a wish to numb the head,
From the stirrings that occur from truths.
And although the eating of deceit weakens,
On a daily basis when that addiction eats...
A cry goes unheard.
A sickening overwhelms...
And,
A wish to be released from it increases.

'Gone to forget to leave'

An encouraged emotionally abandoned mind...
Feeds until the peace of eternal rest has come,
Of what is wished.
And with a consciousness,
Desperately wanting transistion now a mission...
But never accepted to come from one so...
Talented and gifted!

But hurting from a place...
No one took the time to touch to get to know,
And so much pain was inside hiding.

And what was known to God,
Has joined the stars awaiting.
Pain was inside hiding.
Pain was inside hiding.

And what was known to God,
Has joined...
With the others worthy.

Pain was inside hiding.
Pain was inside hiding.

And what was known,
To God...
Has joined,
Eternity!

Goodbye to pain inside there hiding.
Pain inside there hiding.
No more pain inside there hiding.
Pain inside there hiding.
Gone is pain inside there hiding.
Pain inside there hiding.
There's no pain inside there hiding.
Pain inside there hiding.
Gone...
Pain inside there hiding.
Pain inside there hiding.
Gone...
Pain inside there hiding.
Pain inside there hiding.
Gone...
Pain inside there hiding.
Pain inside there hiding.
There's no pain inside there hiding,
Gone.
Gone to forget to leave.
That pain inside there hiding!
Gone to forget to leave.
That pain inside there hiding!
Gone to forget to leave.
There's no pain inside there hiding.
Gone to forget to leave.
Gone to forget to leave.
There's no pain inside there hiding.
Gone.
Gone to forget to leave.
Gone.
Gone to forget to leave.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Our Hiding Place...

we have a hiding place
it is not dark

it is the outside that is
dim

there is a circular fence
an aqueduct for a door

you know where to find me
when they think i am gone

you do not not have to go there
because you do not love me

we have a hiding place
and we do not speak about it

it is lonely there
but that is all that we've got

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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She Is Hiding Away

It is summer and the flies are in,
But tell me where my lover is;
Because she is hiding away from me,
And i don't know why.

Life to me in the African jungle,
Sitting here alone waiting for my lover;
But she is hiding away from me! !
So, do not remain silent when you find her;
But rather give me a call to locate her hiding place.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Learning to Die

Death is not sudden, death does not grieve,
Death takes a while to achieve.
Death comes in layers;
Death is the mouse
From under the couch
At three am, and from under the stairs.

Death is the tumour on my mother’s skin,
Death is a jackhammer pounding in.
Death is a scrabbling crab on all fours,
Death is a jaguar on rough padded paws,
Lurking in the oven doors,
And hiding in the bureau drawers.

Death is the lump within my breast,
Death is the invited dinner guest.
Death is the cadaver,
A slab of cold meat
That lies on a plate.
Death is the wall of frozen sleet.
Death to me comes much too late.

poem by Caroline Misner
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mark R. Slaughter

Just like the dahlia
Death comes in all its beauty

And so I stroke her petals
Push my feet root-deep
Into the composted soil
As weary clouds unite
Coalesce
Darken through the greys
In preparation

Incontinence prevails
Lachrymose in empathy

They cry for me
Sharing tears
Mortality brings
As twilight closes

I rot
(They fade)

To be the plant
(They'll water)

I, denomination Mark R. Slaughter

Struggle thro' my fantasy
To seal the state of mind

That I of soul
Remain eternal

Back on the windowsill
A daffodil stretches
From a bulbous foot

Flirts like a ballerina

STOPS

Wonders of the world

My cat hears the brassy thoughts
From yellow trumpet
Pricks up his ears
Iridescent eyes
Focussed on the future

I'll wait
For his appraisal

A Trail of Death

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poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Punishment

There never really was a place of sanctity
For you, the mortal entity.
You thought you had prosperity,
The while you thrived and were.

Angels don't exist, you see.
You lived without a guarantee
Atop your brutal Earth.
Still, you had a birth.

And whither now, your crying whim -?
Answered by a tearing limb-?
Are you contrite; your valour slim?

And will He care...?

'Tis down to Him.

Copyright Mark R Slaughter,2009

Death has come, has death Death has come, has death
Death has come, has death Death has come, has death
Death has come, has death Death has come, has death
Death has come, has death Death has come, has death
Death has come, has death Death has come, has death
Death has come, has death Death has come, has death

poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When The Sleepy Man Comes

When the Sleepy Man comes with the dust on his eyes,
(Oh, weary, my Dearie, so weary!)
He shuts up the earth, and he opens the skies.
(So hush-a-by, weary my Dearie!)

He smiles through his fingers, and shuts up the sun;
(Oh, weary, my Dearie, so weary!)
The stars that he loves he lets out one by one.
(So hush-a-by, weary my Dearie!)

He comes from the castles of Drowsy-boy Town;
(Oh, weary, my Dearie, so weary!)
At the touch of his hand the tired eyelids fall down.
(So hush-a-by, weary my Dearie!)

He comes with a murmur of dream in his wings;
(Oh, weary, my Dearie, so weary!)
And whispers of mermaids and wonderful things.
(So hush-a-by, weary my Dearie!)

Then the top is a burden, the bugle a bane;
(Oh, weary, my Dearie, so weary!)
When one would be faring down Dream-a-way Lane.
(So hush-a-by, weary my Dearie!)

When one would be wending in Lullaby Wherry,
(Oh, weary, my Dearie, so weary!)
To Sleepy Man's Castle, by Comforting Ferry.
(So hush-a-by, weary my Dearie!)

poem by Sir Charles George Douglas Roberts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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

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poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Cat and the Rat

The pudgy, playful cat said to the rather weary rat,
“I have to keep chasing you so that I don’t get too fat.”
The rather weary rat said he didn’t understand.
“Don’t you chase me for the next meal you’ve planned? ”

The cat laughed and asked, “Why would I want that?
Without you, who would I chase, you silly, weary rat? ”
“I’m tired and sure don’t care if you do get fat.”
Said the more than rather angry weary rat.

At that the rather weary rat decided to ask,
“Can we be friends or is that too tough a task? ”
The pudgy, playful cat frowned and wanted to know,
“Weary rat, just how fat do you want me to grow?
If I stop chasing you, that won’t be too wise,
Since you’re the only way that I can exercise.”

The rather weary rat started to sob and wail.
All this running had made him quite weak and frail.
Then he had an idea that might stop the cat from getting fat.
So he simply asked the pudgy, “Why don't you chase you
Then you can chase it in every place you want to be.”
The pudgy, playful cat had never, ever thought of that.
Now for sure he knew he would never become fat.
He smiled and said, “My chasing you must end
Because, rather weary rat, you are now my best friend!

poem by Gregory Huyette
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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