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Dark Journey

We are on a long journey always relentless,
Few moments in it are felt as discerning;
It is a boring escape into the abyss of black health,
Getting to know this illness captures the philosophers
And we must captivate the many people who think.

Little formality is about and around, more to thinking
Is the action of the incidents that may arrive at our feet.
It is out of this world, a world of fever is never allowed
Since the fantasy enlarges the whole sentence of death.
Death eaten is death begotten, much more from life.

We have nodded and concealed the real message
So well produced by the writers of essays and facts.
We have leaned forward and backward as the winds collide
To awaken our sensibility, our nonsense is surrounding us.
The monsters of the deep share our worries, but darkness spreads.

poem by Naveed Akram
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Related quotes

My Friend, Death

Suicide
An escape from the world
From all the sorrow
The pain
The hurt
An escape from the darkness
Into the darkness
Never to come back out
I've looked for other ways
I've found other doors
But all of them were locked
The only door opened is death
Death will cradle me
Death will wipe my tears away
Death will comfort me
Death will love me
Death will do what no one else could
Death will understand
Death will be my friend

poem by Rachie West
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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
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To They Who Are Hauted By The Spectre Of Death

Do not fear death because death is not to be feared.Death is the bride of every household therefore welcome her with open arms.Death is inevitable therefore do not deny yourself the pleasure of having a nice time while you're still alive.Death is a stage through which all of us must pass.Death is necessary and this old life would be very boring if we would all live forever.Accept the inevitability of death and die gratefully with less worry lines on your death mask, There are no worries in the other world and over there they offer you virgins to pamper you to compensate for your undeserved suffering in this world.Therefore be willing to die young and have a good looking corpse

poem by Ngaka Motaung
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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
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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.

D eath Crawl

poem by Mark R Slaughter
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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.’

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

poem by Mark R Slaughter
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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
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Since I Have Felt The Sense Of Death

Since I have felt the sense of death,
Since I have borne its dread, its fear—
Oh, how my life has grown more dear
Since I have felt the sense of death!
Sorrows are good, and cares are small,
Since I have known the loss of all.

Since I have felt the sense of death,
And death forever at my side—
Oh, how the world has opened wide
Since I have felt the sense of death!
My hours are jewels that I spend,
For I have seen the hours end.

Since I have felt the sense of death,
Since I have looked on that black night—
My inmost brain is fierce with light
Since I have felt the sense of death.
O dark, that made my eyes to see!
O death, that gave my life to me!

poem by Helen Hoyt
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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.

Death death death death death death death death death
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Death death death death death death death death death
The final part

poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Life or Death

Death is a mystery,
and life is Suspense.

The journey to death,
is unknown yet,
and Life is a dream stage.

Nobody has come back
From their death,
And life seems to be,
Chasing an invisible end.

Escape from death,
is impossible,
and so from Life.

Death is most painful,
Life is even more.

Death is frightful,
And Life is a puzzle.

So is life,
or Death,
better for a human fate?

poem by Pratisha Karki
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The Vision of Death

Many paint a
picture of Death.
They say that it
carries a scythe
and is a skeleton.
They say it comes
when murder or
fear are lurking.
Still, others say
that Death is
the way to
escape the tedious
work of life.
I say, personally,
that Death is an
important factor.
Without Death,
what would be life?
Boring and
useless.
Without trials
and tests of character.
Death is
the whole
motivation of
life.
Celebrate Death,
for it lets us live.
That is my opinion.
That is my view
on the importance
and necessity
of Death.

poem by Jenna Dandurand
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Death is when....

Death is when my loved ones must depart
Death is a sharp pain in my heart
Death is this feeling of permanent sadness and pain
Death is when my loved ones have gone away
Death is the call to heaven or hell
Death is an eternal mansion or cell
Death is the lesson i need to learn about
Death is a loss, without a doubt
Death is this unhappy feeling i have
Death is pleasant on my behalf
Death is the day i end my life
Death is when i give up the fight
Death is happiness to the world around me
Death started when i gained my life
Death can be helped along with this knife
Death is where i shall go
Death is close, i kno
Death willl come fast
Death is vast
Death is what i see
Death lives inside of me
Death is joy to me
Death has come for me
Death is gonna take me
Death will stop my misery
Death loves my company
Death ends the pain
Death takes me on that train
Death is near
Death is finally here

poem by A.J Smith
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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
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Life Or Death

what is life without death
what is death without life
people comes from the big blue sky
people fly up high when they die
their familys start to cry

life is cold
to the bold
want to turn in to gold
but life is getting old

death is black
like a black cat
hard to know when death is coming
but death is coming

so live your life to the fullest
and to the goodest
cause soon death will knocking at your door

so you would just be laying in your death bed
with nothing to say
with one thing in your head
is this LIFE or DEATH

poem by Demarcus Walker
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Scared to Death

I feel my heart beat as I lie there and breath every breath in.I feel as if im scared to death and nothing there to support me as i fall.I dream dreams that could not have an explination to them.I wake up breathing as hard as before as my feet touch the floor, I am scared to death.I love my life but there comes a time when you just have to admit everything that is wrong.As I breath so calmly and smooth just then i find out the truth.Im scared to death.I walk around with a smile and realize this life has so many 'un-discovered' facts and as we learn the facts i see that the worlds going to waist.Im scared to death.I look around wondering if anyone else knows or feels my pain, only because im scared to death.I wish i could tell someone I wish they would know, so i dont feel as if im in the world alone.Im scared to death.I wonder how i live this life with all the secrets i hold my behind my breath just to realize im scared to death!

poem by Melissa Ramey
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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.

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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Death’s Too Near

Death, you’re standing rather near!
Don’t you understand the fear
You trigger deep within my soul–?
The terror sprung by such a ghoul
Of dark and hideous hue!

Now you’re rattling on my door!
I’m sure I threw you out before –
Methinks you really need to learn!
So leg it please and ne’er return
To haunt me ‘gain, now shoo!

Gain a sense of social pride, and
Keep your bearing far and wide –
Perform the deed when I am done –
Be free and loose to have your fun
When I’m too frail to turn and run,
But now I’ve living to do!

Death, death, nearing death, death, death nearing death
Death, death, nearing death, death, death nearing death
Death, death, nearing death, death, death nearing death
Death, death, nearing death, death
Death, death, nearing death
Death, death, death
Death, death
Death
Death, death
Death

poem by Mark R Slaughter
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A Philosophical Note On Life After Death

Death’s is a plunge into oblivion self
As an extinction of being.
It annihilates sensations and our becoming
To replace them with death's existence,
Life-a non existent death
And death-a non existent life.
As Epicurus said 'When I am, death is not,
And when death is, I am not, '
We can decline the religious afterlife,
As Gonzalez-Cruzzi did,
But we will never be able to understand
Our born life.
We can deny the visions of crossing over into the light,
When we need to believe
In darkness, silence and engulfing emptiness,
Always understanding that the nothingness needs rectifying.
Because we can fall into nothingness, to remain there eternally.
Coming into life can be a re-awakening of self
The real death is “eternal night”, as Swinburne defined it.
Nothingness can be anything positively existent,
But blackness and emptiness
Are black holes swallowing up the victims of death.
Thinking of Edwards' celebrities,
We may imagine a universe devoid of souls, spirits and mental essences,
A universe having an essential core identity
And divisible selves,
Anticipating the nothingness.
'When I die I won't go to heaven or hell
, there will just be nothingness', Isaac Asimov said once.
'That stuff which does not exist”, he wrote.
I don't know if there exists something that doesn't exist, but
All I know is that the nothingness exists because we are existent
In after death to define it as being existent.
''This life is the only existence there is; afterward there is nothing.”
Robert Nozick also wrote.
Yes, maybe 'nothing” may be a state into which we go, never to return
Or may not be, as Paul Edwards said.
Remember that Anthony Burgess wrote that if there is only darkness after death,
Then that darkness is the ultimate reality
And that love of life is no preparation for it,
Light -keeping the life
Darkness-keeping the death.
This rage against the dying of the light is very human,
Light never dies
It may be reborn from darkness
And vice versus.
But this rage may sound like madness.
And Burgess was raging more than ever
Against the imminent arrival of nothingness,
The eternal experience of no experience, in which
We witness our own extinction,
Or we become pseudo-selves.
Try to imagine the fear in front of that black abyss
And that your death is not the end of a divisible self experience,
But it’s like unconscious periods- pauses between periods of
Different consciousness,
Death-defying connections between consciousnesses
Self becoming impotent in its confrontation with blackness,
An abyss from which we manage to escape.
The 'nothingness' of unconsciousness may be a permanent death,
Which cannot be experienced.
Try to project yourself into the future,
Entering the blackness or emptiness of your non-experience.
The permanent death is coincident with the end of the entire universe
God is alone between two Bing Bang periods
We are aspired- in composing and recomposing
All the boring eons that passes without someone's existence
Would be irrelevant for the person who comes into being,
Even all the conscious entities of the same period ceased to exist.
But, usually, when someone dies people around continue to exist.
Death and birth are 'functionally equivalent' to transformation.
The Christian view of life after death has justice
Being meted out to sinners
And the righteous receiving the reward that they deserve.
My question is,
Who can live an authentic life without knowing the meaning of the life?

poem by Marieta Maglas
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I Met Death

I was waiting, watching one day
When Death came along, looking
As if there was something he wanted to say

His hair was as black as the sky at night
And in the wind it blew like smoke
He had come a long way in his worn black cloak

So I invited him in and I did say
If you’d like to you can stay
But Death said:

“I’m only passing through
For the clock’s hands they say
They are ticking the seconds of my life away”

And I answered,
Thinking I’d misunderstood
As Death’s dark black eye gleamed under his dark black hood

“If your Death, how can you die? ”
You see, Death didn’t seem the kind to lie.

And Death wasn’t phased at all,

“No longer Death I may become,
Or so says He if I don’t complete
The most horrible, horrible, feat.

“The most horrible feat? ”
I had to say
Could it be so horrible,
That Death couldn’t say?

“Death, ” said Death, “is the horrible feat.”
And then he faded away, like smoke into the blue, blue sky
But I think, before he left, I might have seen him cry.

I had never in my life, seen Death again
Until the night I stood outside in the rain
When he said, “I’m sorry miss, but this is good bye.”
And I found out what it’s like to die.

So we went, and parted, to each our own way,
But one more time I want to heard Death say, “I’m sorry miss, -“
Marking the end of the day

poem by Jinny Tikanus
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Real Life Living

Real life is walking back and dreaming
Real life is entering the picture and achieving
Real life is a fight

To fight with words for swords
And yes swords for words
Here are worlds of sores

This soaring world
Soaring low and high
Swirling to and fro
Mixing sky with dreams
Mixing eyes
Mixing creams with dyes and dies
Paints dripping and dried
Gripping pages grind

Gripping life as a vice death
And death is hate
And hates rest
We wrestle this world upon conception
'till death

And death and life are
Chasing tails
Life is real
While death is chasing tales
And death is really
A bugging issue
Real life realing death
Into sure casting fire
And dreams into life really
Killing death and real life living

poem by Deci Hernandez
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En.Citatepedia®.ro

Dark Journey

Related quotes

My Friend, Death

Mark R. Slaughter

To They Who Are Hauted By The Spectre Of Death

Disingenuousness

Death and I

Death, Inevitable Death

It's Death Again

Since I Have Felt The Sense Of Death

In Death, My Final Part

Life or Death

The Vision of Death

Death is when....

Death

Life Or Death

Scared to Death

A Fresh Endeavour

Death’s Too Near

A Philosophical Note On Life After Death

I Met Death

Real Life Living

En.Citatepedia^®.ro