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Death Personification Poems | Personification Poems About Death

These Death Personification poems are examples of Personification poems about Death. These are the best examples of Death Personification poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Personification |

Violin

.                                              She sleeps in her rose wood bed,
                                                  under a blanket of velvet red;
                                                   old and alone and forgotten,
                                           she dreams of the love she once had.
                                              Once again she recalls his caress
                                                      on the curve of her hips
                                                                and her breast
                                                         as he moved his bow
                                                      on the strings of her soul,
                                                             playing her sound
                                                    'til his passion was spent.
                                                                        ~~~
                                           They traveled the whole world over,
                                                      to every city and town;
                                              the maestro, his bow and violin,
                                                 bringing each curtain down.
                                                                        ~~~
                                               He died in a cry of sweet refrain,
                                               clutching her strings to his heart; 
                                            as he fell to the floor in a final encore,
                                                       tearing her world apart.
                                                                        ~~~ 
                                           So she sleeps in her rose wood bed,
                                                  under a blanket of velvet red;
                                                         her strings still filled 
                                                    with the song of her soul,
                                                        etched by the maestro
                                                               that loved her
                                                               so long ago!

                                                                    ~~~~~

                                                          Author:  Elaine George


Details | Personification |

The Little Flower

               In the same garden, side by side, two flowers began to bloom,
               One, small and fragile, knew her life would be over soon.
               The other, a boisterous rose, felt far superior to her friend
               For she knew that she would live to see the stars and moon   
               Straight through to summer's end.
              
               The little flower did not have the heart to tell her 
               That longevity can bring pain,
               For who would be there to protect her from the elements, 
               The blistering sun and numbing rain.
               Or perhaps an overzealous lad would clasp her in his grip
               And pluck her petals one by one just for the fun of it. 

               And as the rose rambled on and on about all the delights she'd see
               The little flower closed her eyes to dream contentedly.


Details | Personification |

The Wooden Cradle

"The Wooden Cradle" a white wooden empty cradle, I wait in the nursery room for the smell of baby fragrance to illuminate sleeping bloom years have escalated, still sounds of silence hurt my ears for all I hear are tender sobs from a Mother's broken tears. I felt a distant heartbeat once, but it has ceased to linger my warmth caressed a dying soul who touched my slats with finger his breath was labored; his life short, but I held his heart close now haunting memories exist as I cuddle his sweet ghost. my frame sits in a sunny place, outside, I see a tree swaying in the balmy breeze where a swing should be instead, I cry, so silently, recall a tiny form I embraced in a moment in time and kept him safe and warm. if these walls within this room could whisper words of sorrow sheer pain would cause tremendous tears to fashion sad tomorrows I sympathize with woeful walls whose treasure no longer looms but no-one understands my loss inside the nursery room. *For Frank H.'s PERSONIFICATION Contest.


Details | Personification |

In Silence

And so it was that Autumn would die with a gust of wind she said goodbye Of love mortal she sits subdued sipping remnants of death imbued With curtains drawn she lay in rest in silent prose she relived each breath of life abandoned of weary roads where Winter's freeze would glisten alone And so it was that Autumn had gone in the lonely grips of winter without a song


Details | Personification |

DEATH

With instincts
Distinct in its' precinct
It lies low
Flies above
And remains aloft
Full of power
It moves about
To and fro it goes
Until it finds its prey
Rich or Poor
Cowardly or Bold
Master or Servant
Weak or Mighty
In its physical form
It was defeated
In its abstract
It was unseen
And hovers 
Around its prey
Until the time is come
The die is cast
And the command is 
given
The soul is taken
As the line is cut
That connects
Life to the body
DEATH!!!
A tear to many
A joy to others
A curse to some
A blessing in disguise
It is to you 
What you choose it to 
be


Details | Personification |

a conversation with steven-his battle with aides

i have seen my death
wrapped around a maypole
waving four corners in the wind
hauntingly
playing 
peek-a-boo with my soul

i have seen my death
as i march onto the battlefield
aimed to kill
that which threatens my very existence
my right to stand
on the balcony of life
feast my gaze on the rising sun
interlaced with the aroma of morning dew
sit at the edge of a quiet stream
watch the sun slip slowly
behind the mountain peaks
the air dancing
with the fragrance of lilac

i have seen my death
viewed through the stethoscope
of the minds of learned men
that boast their knowledge
their talent
their skill
as i move away from sterile hands
with sterile anger
pushing away sterile needles
that have not the cure
only promises of next time
i want answers to this rage
this terror
that no man understands

i have seen my death
through the eyes of my loved ones
as they kiss away
my fear
their fear
my death
their death
i cannot enter 
into their quiet soft place
my space
is filled with shadows
as i watch them close the coffin
on their humanness
but not their souls

i have seen my death
and
i'm not ready to die


Details | Personification |

The Swan in the Cemetary

The swan in the cemetery looked so out of place
in such a depressing location to see such a symbol of grace
a mystical message engraved on a level of hidden depth
a breath of fresh life, hidden amongst the death.
as i watched the swan pace between the gravestones with all the confusion it 
presents
in a place of such solitude, i chuckle at the irony the swan represents
but all  of a sudden the swan stops in its tracks.
looks up at the sky down at the ground and then over its shoulder as to look over 
its back
with an insinuation in its actions that portrays an essence of surprise
as it stops looking around and focuses on my eyes
which some how against my will has me rested on my knees
as the swan opens its beak but instead of a sqwauk a human voice pleas
a plea of forgiveness for all that its done
a plea to say goodbye to his wife and his son
but then the swan descends into the ground through a grave with not as much as 
a sqwauk
as i read the inscription on the stone i cry as i find it reads here lies hope


Details | Personification |

Heart of The Sea

The heart of the sea is a mother's heart
She is the great ancestral mother of all life on the planet
Deep within the mysterious waters of her womb
she conceived and gave birth to the first life form
which evolved into more complex organisms
that live on the land and in the air

She is an essential part of the planet's ecosystem
feeding the clouds which bring rain and snow
that sustain life on the earth
Through tiny ocean plants and photosynthesis
she removes carbon dioxide from the air
and converts it to more than one half of the oxygen
in the earth's atmosphere

She is the great food provider to the planet
having her own internal food chain
with tiny phytoplankton at the lower end
and enormous sharks and whales at the upper end
She feeds creatures from the land and air 
that venture to fish in her waters

She is a thing of beauty even in her enraged fury
with massive waves towering over a hundred feet
and the seething white foam of her waters
This has been her action
even before the advent of man on the planet
Man must respect her behaviour 
or suffer death and destruction if he does not

She is a thing of beauty in her calm stillness under the setting sun
which lights up the evening sky in its glorious splendour
and paints a glistening beam of light on the water's surface
in line with the sun and surrounds it
with brilliant colours of the rainbow



Details | Personification |

Beautiful ones are dying

Beautiful ones are dying/
Directors on silent the film is sponsored by reality/
Voiceovers turn into scandals not propensity /
Actors with no clue they get glued in life's show their future is screwed/
Born raged their actions are so real/
Kill or be killed quest between scenes/
Poverty is more than the defining moment screams/
Hunger bleeding dreams with no makeup pencils/

A wakeup call before the final cut/
A turning point of a lifetime plot/
It’s a warm-up elevating hopes before credits/
Death too expensive/
No rehearsals nor sequels/ 
Dark clouded cameras carry life insurances/
Raining scenes on corruption’s free way and streets/
The cancer eating stunning extras/
Avalon cemetery the only Stadium Lavatory flushing off written off characters/
Beautiful ones are dying/


Details | Personification |

The Chair {Personification} In Couplet Form

I sit at the end of your final stroll
Setting you free is my only goal

At the end of your life so tired and beat
I quietly offer, “Please take a seat”

I suddenly notice as you’re strapped in
Your victim’s father cracks a wide grin

For this day he has waited so many years
Is that your mother shedding all of those tears?

I’m sorry; you thought I would be all polite
Boy I am the darkness you fear in the night

Thomas Edison got the fame for inventing me
Though it was Harold P. Brown; a loyal employee

The first to meet me met a fiery fate
In 1890 I released William Kemmler’s hate

In 1899 Martha Place came to dance with me
First woman fried in the entire world’s history

I truly enjoy when I get to serve company
Especially delicious was my friend Ted Bundy

To one simple fact there is truly no doubt
I’m the gateway to Hell, come on check it out

 I was truly invented to serve just one goal
I’m simply here to separate the body and soul

They all think their evil until them and I meet
I’m Sizzling Sally please come taste my heat

Old Smokey, Old Sparky hell it’s all the same
Smoke them or fry-em boys this is my game

Written for Deborah's contest


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