When my emptiness capture my loneliness
Death comes in the most dramatic sense
of loyalty to the grave, giving
chance the change to overcome on the next level
of reality, a willed dream of chaos venture the
point of insanity
thou shall loudest laugh echo in the grave,
as the tears flown like honey to
those wish your death, knowingly they
pray your soul to rest in a few
second of your eyes that
close
oh! silent in my coffin, trusted me not in
your skin, touch me not of your sting
for running to go back home
is gone like wind, wanting to settle but
nothing than to lay down
in the soil of rest
breathe my little darling leave what makes
a man perfect and rich even, lost each moment
with the sun, the day break has rise
in a distance,
but my hand still capture the treasure in the
sand,
Lord, I am gone...
poem by Antonio Liao
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Related quotes
The Fall of Usher
An elegy on Edgar Allan Poe
"Thou wert the Morning Star among the living,
Ere thy fair light had fled;
But, having died, thou art like Hesperus giving
New splendor to the dead." - Plato's Aster.
"Thou art gone to the grave!" but thy spirit is shining,
And singing afar in the Realms of the Blest ;
While the living are left by thy cold grave reclining,
And mourning for thee while they long for thy rest---
Left mourning for thee while they long for thy rest!
"Thou art gone to the grave!" thou art gone where thy slumber
No more shall be broken by sorrow or pain---
Soon to rise with that host which no mortal can number,
To lie down no more in that Valley again!
No more to lie down in that Valley again!
"Thou art gone to the grave!" there is none can restore thee,
Or bring thee again from that Silent Abode !
But the Conqueror of Death went to dwell there before thee,
And He has prepared thee the way to thy God!
Prepared thee the way to thy Beautiful God !
"Thou art gone to the grave!" thou art silently sleeping
A sleep which no sorrow shall ever molest;
And, in longing for which, my poor heart now is keeping
This silent lament in its grave in my breast!
Like Shelley for Keats, in its grave in my breast!
"Thou art gone to the grave!" let the dark Weeping Willow
Bend over thy grave where thy beauty was laid!
While thy form, thus reclined on the earth for its pillow,
Shall live in the Spring-flowers which bloom at thy head---
To feed the young Butterflies born at thy head.
"Thou art gone to the grave!" where the Violets are springing,
And feeding upon thee above the damp sod,
Now thy Pandemos mourns, while thy spirit is singing,
And drinking delight from the Fountains of God ---
With thine Ullalume lost from the Fountains of God.
poem by Thomas Holley Chivers
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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I can never dream of God
TELL ME, GOD!
you will let me dream,
that I'l dream of a heaven
I'l never see,
that I'l dream of a hell
that has no pain.
that I'l dream that one day
that I dreamed that I wake!
TELL ME I'L DREAM
that my mother was alive!
Tell me I'l dream
there were tears in my eyes!
Tell me I'l dream
of the first light of day,
TELL ME I'L DREAM!
and I'l dream that I wake!
For, in a grave!
for the rest of my time,
In a grave! in the hell where I lie!
In a grave, where forever I'l sleep,
I'd dream of God,
..........If only I could dream
Be Not Proud
Oh Death be not proud,
Oh Grave be not shallow
For out reaching your darkened hand
And refusing a boy, to become a man.
Oh grave I feel your sting
And Death I hear you sing
From the lives that you do take
From the lives, to you we gave.
Oh grave, be not proud
For taking the little child
For refusing them yet to grow,
Unto the Adults, they'll never know.
Death be not proud
For arriving as a thief
To break the heart and shatter the soul
To only fill it, with your grief.
Death be not proud
Grave be not victorious
Pain be not loud
Sorrow, be not continuous.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Lay His Sword By His Side
Lay his sword by his side -- it hath served him too well
Not to rest near his pillow below;
To the last moment true, from his hand ere it fell,
Its point was still turn'd to a flying foe.
Fellow-labourers in life, let them slumber in death,
Side by side, as becomes the reposing brave --
That sword which he loved still unbroke in its sheath,
And himself unsubdued in his grave.
Yet pause -- for, in fancy, a still voice I hear,
As if breathed from his brave heart's remains; --
Faint echo of that which, in Slavery's ear,
Once sounded the war-word, "Burst your chains."
And it cries, from the grave where the hero lies deep,
"Though the day of your Chieftain for ever hath set,
Oh leave not his sword thus inglorious to sleep --
It hath victory's life in it yet!
"Should some alien, unworthy such weapon to wield,
Dare to touch thee, my own gallant sword,
Then rest in thy sheath, like a talisman seal'd,
Or return to the grave of thy chainless lord.
But, if grasp'd by a hand that hath learn'd the proud use
Of a falchion, like thee, on the battle-plain,
Then, at Liberty's summons, like lightning let loose,
Leap forth from thy dark sheath again!"
poem by Thomas Moore
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Never I leave you in Pain
hustle get me sad
pondering a voice form the echo of a
distance level of dream, wild bird shout for laughter
until the sound of the wind blow
knock down the pillow
of tears in the
bedside step i fall
rise dear soul your gone yet!
capture of the past
journey, felt the thundering pond of joy,
thou nothing sip the crystal whisperer
of your pray in the nightfall
that calm down the angry
sea
raise upon the stargazer
as the stream of the heart beacon
the sounding cymbals of the
angels of the oracle of
dream you wish, stand passive
the fall great the meaning
of survive
hail on the clouds that never cried
wondering the wisdom of time
of the lasting echo of the past,
i pray... Farewell dear flesh
poem by Antonio Liao
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The Road may wind.....
let the journey begin and the will finds
the righteous direction of wind propels the
future of thy soul, into the morning sky of
today
be the breezing wind gently flown to
the waiting dunes and back hurriedly to
the sweet home of wonderful beginning; a
riding wave of every fish of hook
show the prosperous journey, the clock
seems echo its waiting moment of time,
where the muddy road wishing to hold;
the suspended sky in your weary eyes, as
it say let me hold you in my tears
puzzled and troubled sweat laugh in the
trembling suite of your wonderful heart,
know not me; cause the pain but a laughter
hold me to gain your great victory in every
hand and dream we hold on
make me, believe that the sharp edge of
time leaves with me, until the bottom of the
sand of the sea capture the wisdom of being
free
i am lifting to stand by your blessed hand,
let me live for another day to stay.........
poem by Antonio Liao
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The last Garrison
the shadow
have cover me all the
rubble and soak
my brain in the dried land,
where can I cool myself
in the rainbow of dunes, as I leave
my trouble dream
to rest
trigger to jump
in the quest of the sand,
where my tears
call and shout for fear, let be
the end of my journey
welcome the paradise of hope
to breathe in the
Lilies of beauty and silent in
the grave
Sailor
my destiny and capture
my quest in the mountain of
Cedar In the valley of the living,
the eagerness
of thirst satisfied my Longing
to see you again in the dark ages
of time
tell me, my desire
has leave my self to end
the passion of
Zeal to rebuild again of once
it’s gone …..
poem by Antonio Liao
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Unfortunate
Fold her hands upon her breast,
And let her sweetly sleep.
She has found a perfect rest,
Beneath her winding sheet.
Her weary limbs are now at rest,
And free from toil and pain;
Her weary soul from earth has left,
But in Heaven lives again.
Death has closed her mild blue eyes,
That once was full of mirth,
Her lovely form once full of life,
Will now return to earth.
Touch her gently, let her lie,
This forsaken girl forlorn;
Tears may fall from strangers' eyes,
O'er her silent form.
She was a poor erring girl,
A wanderer alone,
Friends she had none in this world,
Nor a place she could call home.
She's found a home bright and fair
In that world above,
Angels dwell together there,
In perfect peace and love,
Place her gently in her grave,
And let her sweetly sleep.
Judge her not; for he who gave
Her life, her soul will keep.
poem by Julia A Moore
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The Conqueror's Eye
dash me to your vision, capture my day with hope and
fantasy young and sweet, like fruits waiting to be bite
and Juice into bits and pieces of grinded pickle in your
tongue
just like a moment catching the zero point, the high
that never every wish to settle such stands, where
nowhere state of feeling hallucinate the coming end
for fear of returning home, in your endless view of
perfection
deceive me in your eyes, the hug mesmerize the
coming stay of you in my moment of time; wash those
fears of dying, for nothing close in your mind would
lead you far from me, all have something to make you
feel alright my darling
where, of those dream would come to my midst of
distress and fall back the tears that the heart has falling
apart; for tomorrow will only be the log of the future I
hope and stay to live with you, grasp and capture the
eye that see the season of spring; for my heart leads my
soul to see you again
oh! come my ears listen and let me conquer the
captured eagle eye of deception, and never ask the
close hand to open the future of my fate … and.i will
be in vain …..
poem by Antonio Liao
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The Lost One
COME to the grave--the silent grave! and dream
Of a light, happy voice--so full of joy,
That those who heard her laugh, would laugh again,
Echoing the mirth of such an innocent spirit;
And pause in their own converse, to look round,
Won by the witchery of that gleesome tone.
Come to the grave--the lone dark grave! and dream
Of eyes whose brilliancy was of the soul,
Eyes which, with one bright flash from their dark lids,
Seemed at a glance to read the thoughts of others;
Or, with a full entire tenderness,
The pure expression of all-perfect love,
(Of woman's love, which is for you alone,
While your's is for yourself)--gave in that look
The promise of a life of meek affection.
Come to the grave--the mouldering grave! and dream
Of a fair form that glided over earth
One of its happiest creatures:--to her cheek
The lightest word might bring the blushing blood
In pure carnation;--down her graceful neck,
The long rich curls of jet hung carelessly,
Untortured by the cunning hand of art:
And on her brow, bright purity and joy,
Twin sisters, sate,--as on a holy throne.
Come yet unto the grave--the still, damp grave!
And dream of a young heart that beat with life,
And all life's best affections; of a heart
Where sorrow never came, nor fear, nor sin--
Nor aught save innocence, and perfect love:
And, having dreamed of such a lovely being--
So gay, so bright, so pure, so fond, so meek--
Having thus conjured up a form of love
In thine own pausing and regretful mind;--
A vision will be present to thy soul,
A faint, but faithful portraiture, of one
Most dearly loved, and now for ever lost!
poem by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton
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Abide With Me
Abide with us: for it is towards evening, and the day is far spent. -- Luke xxiv.29
Abide with me! Fast falls the Eventide;
The darkness thickens. Lord, with me abide
When other helpers fail, and comforts flee,
Help of the helpless, O abide with me!
Swift to its close ebbs out life's little day;
Earth's joys grow dim, its glories pass away:
Change and decay in all around I see.
O Thou who changest not, abide with me!
Not a brief glance I beg, a passing word;
But as Thou dwellst with thy disciples, Lord,
Familiar, condescending, patient, free, --
Come, not to sojourn, but abide with me.
Come not in terrors, as the King of kings;
But kind and good, with healing in Thy wings,
Tears for all woes, a heart for every plea.
Come, Friend of sinners and thus bide with me.
Thou on my head in early youth did smile,
And though rebellious and perverse meanwhile,
Thou hast not left me, oft as I left Thee.
On to the close, O Lord, abide with me!
I need thy presence every passing hour.
What but thy grace can foil the Tempter's power?
Who like Thyself my guide and stay can be?
Through cloud and sunshine, O, abide with me!
I fear no foe with thee at hand to bless;
Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness.
Where is death's sting? where grave thy victory?
I triumph still, if Thou abide with me.
Hold then thy cross before my closing eyes;
Speak through the gloom, and point me to the skies.
Heaven's morning breaks, and Earth's vain shadows flee!
In life, in death, O Lord, abide with me!
poem by Henry Francis Lyte
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Today
Today
I rise upon the call of the sun
Like fire burning my skin
My soul of guilt
Whom I have done wrong
To forgive me
Today
I rise upon the call of the sun
Like fire giving me life to live
Another life
Another moment
To face what is present
And what is next
Today
As I look upon the road of reality
To differ the past and future
Like autumn leaves on the ground
Seeds to be reborn
Another tree to spring
Yet, life like sunshine and sunset
Moons and stars
Sharing their lights in the galaxy
Of darkened universe
We all have time to rest
If tomorrow I still rise
To greet the sun upon the call of the wind
Air to breathe
And see what God created me –
Today
“Today, I thank you Lord for giving me
another day to live.”
poem by Efren Petalver Carranza
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On Death
Death, thou art a harden’d crook!
Trying souls unwary to hook;
By the waters of a brook;
Few elderly to book.
Never art thou better than Birth!
Without which, no soul gets Mirth;
By Baptism, the Soldier of God
Enters His Abode, of the Lord.
Fie Death! Thou art a fool to steal
Souls unready to die- I feel;
But only through thy cruel Kiss,
Open the gates to Heaven’s Bliss.
God, He redeemed this sinful world
Through you; To show His love, I’m told;
His Resurrection proved Him God!
By thee, man goes to His Abode.
Man dies by fire, water, soil;
Soul climbs the celestial trail;
The unwary cannot get bail!
One day, all must to Him set sail.
Some day, man will have to die!
And in the grave, rest for a while;
The body, soul shall then live come,
For His Judgment, from every tomb!
poem by John Celes
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God Rest His Soul
A man lay dieing in the streets
A thousend people fell down on their knees
Any other day he would have been.....
Preaching
Reaching all the people there
Oh lord lord
But lord knows I cant change what I saw
I say God rest his soul
The memphis battelground was red
Cause blood came pouring from his head
Women and children fallin down.....
Crying
For the man they loved so well
Oh lord lord
But lord knows I cant change what I saw
I say God rest his soul
(I breake here)
Solo
But lord knows I cant change what I saw
I say God rest his soul
The morning sun will rise again
With all the passions growing thin
What we gonna do when war is come.. and wer
Dieing
Dieing for the cause I know
(yeah but)
But lord knows I cant change what I saw
Say God rest his soul
song performed by by Allman Brothers Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Psalm 116 part 1
Recovery from sickness.
I love the Lord; he heard my cries,
And pitied every groan;
Long as I live, when troubles rise,
I'll hasten to his throne.
I love the Lord; he bowed his ear,
And chased my griefs away;
O let my heart no more despair,
While I have breath to pray!
My flesh declined, my spirits fell,
And I drew near the dead;
While inward pangs and fears of hell
Perplexed my wakeful head.
"My God," I cried, "thy servant save,
"Thou ever good and just;
Thy power can rescue from the grave,
Thy power is all my trust."
The Lord beheld me sore distressed,
He bid my pains remove
Return, my soul, to God thy rest,
For thou hast known his love.
My God hath saved my soul from death,
And dried my falling tears;
Now to his praise I'll spend my breath,
And my remaining years.
poem by Isaac Watts
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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
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
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If Only I Could Dream
TELL ME, GOD!
that you'l let me dream,
that I'l dream of a heaven
I shall never see,
that I'l dream of a hell
that has no pain.
that I'l dream that one day
that I'l dream that I wake!
TELL ME I'L DREAM
that my mother never died!
Tell me I'l dream
there were tears in her eyes!
Tell me I'l dream
of the first light of day,
TELL ME I'L DREAM!
and I'l dream that I wake!
For in a grave!
all the rest of my time,
In a grave!
in the hell where I lie!
In a grave!
where forever I'l sleep,
I'd dream of God,
..........If only I could dream
poem by Cemetery man
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Rose-Morals
I. -- Red.
Would that my songs might be
What roses make by day and night --
Distillments of my clod of misery
Into delight.
Soul, could'st thou bare thy breast
As yon red rose, and dare the day,
All clean, and large, and calm with velvet rest?
Say yea -- say yea!
Ah, dear my Rose, good-bye;
The wind is up; so; drift away.
That songs from me as leaves from thee may fly,
I strive, I pray.
II. -- White.
Soul, get thee to the heart
Of yonder tuberose: hide thee there --
There breathe the meditations of thine art
Suffused with prayer.
Of spirit grave yet light,
How fervent fragrances uprise
Pure-born from these most rich and yet most white
Virginities!
Mulched with unsavory death,
Grow, Soul! unto such white estate,
That virginal-prayerful art shall be thy breath,
Thy work, thy fate.
poem by Sidney Lanier
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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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Medical Tourism
Wonting to find the extended life, a wondrous
tourist to find a new beginning; as each precious life
gifted to share, in a distance soil you will feel, the
dawning morning of today
come and take your table, the party is going on, all
share a hand to the scalpel you lay, in the doctor
takes no mercy, closing the door scattered in the
floor, waiting the “WILL” to give, the point of death
and life has to go, in the pocket though it’s empty
wake! up its time to breathe, you’ll on your way,
the night comes with out seeing the light, as it passed
the sting of a needle bleeds of a living grave,
enthroned in your head, where name no more than of
illusion of life
enough penny makes a smile in every heart revive,
the whispering soul shouts the extended beginning of
a new moment of existence, sing the best and loud
the voice that sprinkling goodbye and cleanse the holy
water; pour out full the heart that leaves no doubt to
donate, the gift to live which bring joy
lay my blooming heart in the petal I say rise, to
partake and take to stand my kidney, heart, eye that
makes your way to see the sky….now…take care its
yours to live
“ a paint stake of lines….. to the Filipino people who
donate their human organ for economic and life
Survival…. “ this poem is dedicated
poem by Antonio Liao
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