Behind The Arras
As in some dim baronial hall restrained,
A prisoner sits, engirt by secret doors
And waving tapestries that argue forth
Strange passages into the outer air;
So in this dimmer room which we call life,
Thus sits the soul and marks with eye intent
That mystic curtain o'er the portal death;
Still deeming that behind the arras lies
The lambent way that leads to lasting light.
Poor fooled and foolish soul! Know now that death
Is but a blind, false door that nowhere leads,
And gives no hope of exit final, free.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Related quotes
A narrative is like a room on whose walls a number of false doors have been painted; while within the narrative, we have many apparent choices of exit, but when the author leads us to one particular door, we know it is the right one because it opens.
quote by John Updike
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In God's Horizon
it is in God's horizon that all are equal, regardless, of faith, sex, religion, race, even in our decision of where to end our lives our belief, has always been there to reminds the, thirsts of our soul, to a dream of dreams and a hope against hope, that this journey is worth to
live by
the immortal of soul is the only key we hold, to reach what is life everlasting, what we are today is not what we will bring us in life after death, it is our heart, our faith, our being one, our genuineness of belief, that would leads us to the beginning of life
the trust in our soul, woven with forgiveness, weaken God's wrath, that the harmony of a sinner and the giver of life, all things will be judged accordingly, in God's mercy, witness by our very own soul, when time has come to an end, death is certain and life final direction is on the horizon, be sure that in the moment of silence, whisper your soul that, in your heart
..... ' your happy in the company of angels singing hymn of praise with God of which you know Him '... in your soul and want to live through out Eternity.... in God's Horizon
poem by Antonio Liao
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Two Doors
A long time ago in a land far away,
a stranger appeared from nowhere.
He had journeyed through a portal
that govern time and space.
It pulled him through to a place
of which he knew not where.
On his arrival, he was arrested
and sent before the King
who was a wise old man,
and who loved to play games.
He looked at the stranger,
asked where he had come from.
The stranger could not say.
To say he did not know
was a crime throughout the land.
It was a plea of guilty.
The King looked at the stranger and said.
The punishment for your answer
under our law is certain death.
However, you are a stranger
so I am giving you the choice of two doors.
One door leads to happiness,
the other leads to instant death.
The choice will be all yours.
You will be taken to the arena,
given a special key
that will fit both of the doors.
At the stroke of twelve,
the stranger was marched to the arena
and left standing there.
The two doors stood side by side,
all he had to do was choose.
He moved towards them
and stood for a moment of two.
Finally, he advanced towards the left,
but at the last moment,
changed his mind and opened the right.
As the door opened,
the stranger gasped at what was inside.
Did the stranger open the right door?
I will let you the reader to decide.
30 October 2007
poem by David Harris
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Hall Of Doors
You walk through the hall of doors
With life in sight with death in mind
You watch people open their doors
And you think of how the doors and fate bind
You watch waiting to see your exit
As you see others turn down their path to their end
You know that the paths can not change
You know even with time fate shall not mend
Down the hall you walk
Doors lining each side
Every person holds the key to one of those locks
All around you people stride
Doors open
As people come to their door mats
You walk by doors just hoping,
hoping the next isn't yours, isn't your mat
You watch parents and children leaving eachothers sides
You see love being torn, hate being sewn
as the doors open wide
Some people leave together, some alone
You wait to see your door, your fate
You watch to see which door your key fits
You watch to see if your heart is with love or hate
You watch untill you find the mat at which you shall sit
You walk through the hall of doors
With life in sight, death in mind
You watch as people open their doors
You wait to see which door your fate lays behind.
poem by Bethany Maxwell
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Death occurs, it does not exist
Death, as we all know
Marks the termination
Of a life process
It is the climax of a
Natural process
Where a life system takes birth
Grows, matures
And meets end
It only occurs
And has no existence as such
We fear death
As we know we are going to die one day
We fear most
The aftermath of our departure
Than what really is going to happen to us after death
Death takes not even a split of a second
To fructify
But we ponder over that
And its impact
Much much longer
We just need to know
That we cannot escape this ultimate end
And enjoy living as much as we can
In a fair and socially acceptable manner
Without troubling others around
Factually, living itself
Is indeed a preparation for death only
Because you are going to die the way you lived
A matured, well balanced living
Leads to a similar departure
A chasing, hurried living
Leads to a unplanned demise
Leaving behind others to chase and hurry
An ever complaining ways of living
Leads to a death
After which the near and dear ones
Have a lot to complain
A compassionate and considerate living
Leads to a death
Making others be the same with every one
Death is peaceful only
Health conditions may at times
Someone be hospitalised for long
And someone incapacitated
And some others becoming a real burden
All these have nothing to do with dying peacefully
As long the person to die
Remains in peace and comfort
No need to get reminded
That we die each time we breathe out
As we are not sure
Whether or not we are going to
Brathe in immediately after that
Let us live
Strengthening ourselves
With the understanding
That death does not exist
But, it is going to occur
Only once, somewhere, somehow, sometime
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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There Is No One There
in trying to forget he escapes from the house of pain
time teaches him about doors that he needs to enter
time leads him to the doors of pleasures and one door
leads to another,
different lights and warmth and glitter
different scents and dance steps of love
lust as he must say
later in his life,
some names and places
soon he is undressed and he sees his body and face in the mirror
his hollow eyes
his thirsting heart
his emaciated soul radiating the inner glow of what is about to be lost
completely
he takes the exit and turns back
to the familiar places of this heart
under the tree the bark where two names are written
a heart carved, an arrow piercing
there is no one there
there is no bird singing anymore
the clouds drift and then go away
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Let Your Soul Be Your Pilot
Let your soul be your pilot
Let your soul guide you
Hell guide you well
When youre down and theyre counting
When your secrets all found out
When your troubles take to mounting
When the map you have leads you to doubt
When theres no information
And the compass turns to nowhere that you know well
Let your soul be your pilot
Let your soul guide you
Hell guide you well
When the doctors failed to heal you
When no medicine chest can make you well
When no counsel leads to comfort
When there are no more lies they can tell
No more useless information
And the compass spins
The compass spins between heaven and hell
Let your soul be your pilot
Let your soul guide you
Hell guide you well
And your eyes turn towards the window pane
To the lights upon the hill
The distance seems so strange to you now
And the dark room seems so still
Let your pain be my sorrow
Let your tears be my tears too
Let your courage be my model
That the north you find will be true
When theres no information
And the compass turns to nowhere that you know well
Let your soul be your pilot
Let your soul guide you
Let your soul guide you
Let your soul guide you upon your way...
song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Soul
My soul cries for love
But only tears reply
My soul cries for attention
But only lonliness answers the door
My soul cries for a friend
Only to be ignored
By a stranger
My soul cries for hope
But despair with lies
Deceive the truth
Which blinds hope
My soul cries for warmth
As an artic freeze
Surrounding my soul
Entices it with the dance of death
My soul defeated
No longer cries
Accepts what it can't change
Lies still
Waiting to die
poem by Matt Mondschein
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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.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
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The final part
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!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
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Death, death
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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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...........
A Death Too Kind
To take within me, the life of your soul
To take within me, the death of your mind
To take within me, the hatred of man
To take within me, a Death too kind
A time has come to rid the rid the world
Of the lies you seek to spread
The time is now to free the hate
Upon your soul, a hate so pure
The impending justice of a broken world
The death of your lies
A death too kind
A death so right
poem by Sean Quinlan
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Park 'n go
as life lives in a part of profane world, the immortality of
soul, struggle the sting of death, in a boundless, limit of
earthly pleasure
like a crystal dropp of sweat, drain in every veins that
gives, each strength the mighty force to carry the weight
beyond its loads of flesh to reach where the soul sprouted
like Lilies of joy in my immortality of soul
life as we take is but, a journey of happiness, waiting where
the final destination it brings, for every life experienced lives
a memory to hold until, life comes to an end, of where it is just
a park and go as it would tell
make each moment to remember, for anything it would bring
is the one that the heart will live, until in heaven it depart, let
the wisdom of time comes, to see the dawning days that
my soul leaves my human body, for thy eternity cloth me, the
day of immortality where a continuous life of an endless free
all will come to witness, that everything in heaven and on earth
will come to an end, for the endless beginning, is the perfection
of creation that, the supreme Lord of the universe, reveals the
completeness light of eternity
as mankind, come and go, park 'n go, the universe has just leads
us to the right direction of where, the path of salvation await our
soul to live.... a final destination with God
poem by Antonio Liao
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Medicine of the Soul
oh!
angels of everlasting
time,
behold the words
that always kept thy words
eternally fuse
in my heart, choice not on
to end each mouth and let the lips
whisper the truth
of wisdom, be carried for a million years
Jerk may come
in all my knees, until the wizard I
pray leads my stone to rest,
mine is the
waiting game the prize that gear
my hope to a sudden
stay of life
regret not and, let me scum my lasting memory
with my beloved one
I am awake
humid my breathe of the words,
unspoken to my heart
and feel the tiding salvation I wait
of fearless spear
into my soul, of where
my life survive with a promise
of what life may turn
to dust, the
dunes of heaven best
I belong
let every fume
shower
my whole self and lock me
to the fine welcome
of my lasting soul
of humility,
there I cry till I‘ll be going for endless stay
vividly the falling
leaves always refresh my tears with thee,
and let every words of eternity leads my soul to flee ….
poem by Antonio Liao
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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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Senseless Death
Death is blind
Death is deaf
yet it is dumb
Death is senseless
Absolutely at that
So much so
To the kings door
It knocks upon
From a mother's womb
It feeds thereof
If death had a way
Heavens gate it will shake
The chains of hell
It will break
Searching a new soul to take
Senseless
As death may seem
Upon every soul
Still it sneaks
Taking from any
As it wills.
poem by Emeka chunye Okaforudeji
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After
Take the cloak from his face, and at first
Let the corpse do its worst!
How he lies in his rights of a man!
Death has done all death can.
And, absorbed in the new life he leads,
He recks not, he heeds
Nor his wrong nor my vengeance; both strike
On his senses alike,
And are lost in the solemn and strange
Surprise of the change.
Ha, what avails death to erase
His offence, my disgrace?
I would we were boys as of old
In the field, by the fold:
His outrage, God's patience, man's scorn
Were so easily borne!
I stand here now, he lies in his place:
Cover the face!
poem by Robert Browning from Men and Women (1855)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Imagine (2)
if you imagine
that this is the only place
we are destined to be
tall buildings
rushing cars
dusty pavements
artificial parks
i tell you, if this is the only place you believe
then you miss
the callings of truth
i still believe that there is another world out there
whose entrance is death.
when death touches you
do not shiver
welcome it and embrace it
with gladness
and peace
imagine that death is the door
that leads you
there
they call it heaven.
believe and be free and be happy
till eternity
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Beldame of Death
A crunch: afoot a dead arachnid
Spanning once a serving plate –
Oh! that others be alive
With such as me for spider bait!
I slunk along the silent hall
Of ancient ore attired in grime –
Feculent beyond the nose;
No bearing here, nor feel for time.
I shuddered in appreciation –
The ambience would mortify
A feeble mind, aghast, opined
Of murky thought, and typify
The will of Belial err I brought
Upon myself to loathe and dread
Exquisite retribution: to linger
Oftentimes alive, then dead.
Compulsion saw me edging on
Toward a narrow door of oak.
Behind, I knew, a greater evil
Waiting in her fusty cloak.
A choice of nil upon the table;
Aught of leave, I had to face
Alone the shrew – her flaming aura
Angling me; my deep disgrace
From ugly deeds I dealt in life,
A heinous world I honed in glee…
'Now take a crooked path to death,
For I have come to torture thee! '
Out of eyes of orange flame,
A piercing glare, then here it came –
The cackling cry of chanting song:
'You thought you'd die alone in pain
The once – nay nay! you'll die with me,
And so a catch: you'll die again
Ad infinitum - ever be!
Your soul to curse, my heart we'll gore,
Your liver to draw and quarter;
A sadomasochistic pair,
We'll slither together in slaughter! '
I answered only with a scream, from
Sensing near her craving lust.
My crimes to answer; wrongs annul;
Renounce my soul and turn to dust...
On an evening cool and quiet,
Stretch an ear to listen tight –
Are you lucky of a moment –?
Hark! my clarion call of plight.
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
Notes on this poem can be found at:
http: //succumbedtothinking.webs.com/featuredpoems.htm
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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