These Angel Sad poems are examples of Sad poems about Angel. These are the best examples of Angel Sad poems written by international PoetrySoup poets
A WISH -- In Memory Of
I wish I could blow air into your little lungs,
The day my daughter brought your stillborn body into this world.
Hold your little body warm,
And tell my little girl you have her cute little nose....
Count your little fingers, and kiss your little toes....
I could look into your daring eyes,
Facing a little boy, who's ready for this world
I could tell my daughter you have her beautiful brown eyes...
Sadly, it’s not like that.
How can I tell my daughter everything will be all right?
When a piece of my heart was stolen with her's,
When giving birth to her son, my grandson
March 25, 2013---- How it Hurts!
O’ how I wish, you entered this world crying
Instead, we're the ones left in tears of sorrow
How I wish you could be,
And not this feeling you left inside
How I wish, God could explain why o' why o' why?
Mostly, I WISH grandma could fix this, and make
your mommy feel, the joy she was robbed of.
In memory of my grandson: ---Bael Lesley G.
Born March 25, 2013 --- RIP March 25, 2013
"I heard an angel speak last night and he said "write" - Elizabeth Barrett Browning
that was the last word he whispered before his eyes closed forever...
I close my own eyes, bite my lower lip, 'til I taste tin, stone angel crying with me...
The wind sends chills through me, as the heavens threatened to weep
brown leaves skittering between my feet, seeking for shelter.
How I related to those leaves: dry...brittle...dead.
I look at the Angel that watches over him,imploring for answers,
begging this Guardian to take pity on me, help me remember.
She only looks at me, with tears in her eyes, her beautiful face
always looked enigmatic to me, for she was smiling...
and yet those tears hinted at sadness,
seemingly reprimanding me with her look.
I bow my head in shame, and reach for her hands,
but I only feel cold, hard stone...not unlike my heart
My throat catches, I can hardly breathe--
I loosen my grip, feeling it might burn this time
...from guilt, for forgetting...
I glance at her magnificent wings, and wished I had them, too,
if only to fly away, but my feet are stuck on the ground,
with a heart buried in regret.
I whisper one word: "Sorry":spoken so softly, I think I only said it in my heart;
I say it louder, my body wracked with sobs, my heart bleeding crimson tears of anguish.
I look at the Angel and notice something on her sash--
One pristine white feather lay there-a stark contrast to the moss covered stone.
I take the feather, notice wordings etched on the sash--and scraped off moss,
Tennyson's words go straight to my heart...
" 'Tis better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all."
The memories come back like a flash flood, assaulting me, bringing me back to that day.
He told me he had an angel carved to be with him at his grave,
since I, his angel, couldn't always be there for him. And that he understood,
that it was okay. I shrugged it off, told him I love him forever.
I still do, that's why it shamed me that I also love another now.
Seeing those words, I felt such a sense of peace, like he was embracing me,
smoothing out my hair like he used to, telling me it was all right.
I blink back tears, and say "Thank you" this time...I hug the Angel and I felt warm.
Drizzle and sunlight bounced off each other as I walked away.
I turn my head around to his grave
--and the Angel looked on with a smile.
Constance's Angels in Cemeteries contest
June 18, 2011
Nineteen twenty-four and the wind was cold,
When men in uniform entered our town;
Forced us to leave in their boxcars,
Made us believe that it was for our own safety.
With no time to fix our things
We hurriedly got in the box.
And when everyone was in,
The doors were locked.
The place was hell
For not even a whisper of wind
Could enter the place,
Nor could a light shine through its walls.
Our eyes were dry and lips cracked
Plead for just a single drop;
As four nights and days we travelled
Inside the cars with no food or water.
The box unimaginable in its very state,
For dung and human liquid fragranced the place.
Weak-hearted both young and old struggled to live
Even the strong wished not to survive.
And on the fourth day, the box went to a halt!
Survivors were singing songs to God;
“Please end this tormented journey,
And deliver us home safely.”
Light shone as the heavy doors were opened!
We dropped to our knees
Hoping the place was Paradise
But Paradise was it not for we were in Hell.
Ironically, the gate held words
Like that as ‘Beware of the Dog.’
Written in frostbitten wood saying:
“ARBEIT MACHT FREI.”
My mind was puzzled upon seeing those,
How could labor set you free,
When labor here meant
Dying in force and agony.
Jew, work or die!
Jew, never complain and lie!
Those were the words
That became music in our ears,
As we bent our bones
Working for freedom that is bound.
Jew, form your lines!
Jew, the choosing has come!
And in this place we call Hell,
An Angel waits for preys.
Not to feed to its cherubim
But to the ovens decay.
Jew, old and sick!
Jew, to the ovens burn!
As the sun paints the sky red,
A gray smoke danced with the setting clouds,
And in the heavens, the old and sick smile
Grateful to be forever free from the Angel.
On and on, the days passed by
Not faster but years it seem.
Millions were killed by the monsters of time,
Feeding them to the hungry gas ovens.
Then one even night,
I dreamt of food, of home,
Of freedom and safety
And a voice calling me to follow.
I had no choice but to obey,
For in that moment I was already tired,
Sick and losing hope that once was mine
But seem to be forever lost.
On the 16th of March,
I lied still in my shelf.
I slept forever smiling,
With my red babushka in hand.
But disappointed and angry was I
To share the very day of my death
To the birth of the Malach-ha-mavis:
The Angel of Death.
He was always so happy
strong and bold.
He'd give you the shirt off of his back.
He had a rough life
growing up through the depression,
but like he always does,
he got through it.
He has two boys, of whom he is so proud.
Moved from Regina, to Victoria.
He had the best life anyone his age could have wanted.
But ever since his wife died,
he has not been the same.
But like he has always done,
he got through it.
just a little forgetful.
That's how it always starts out...
But like always, he powered through it,
He is not the same person that I used to know.
He been sentenced to the prison in his own mind.
Possessed by the thoughts of his dogs ashes.
He likes to play the blame game,
but we know he doesn't remember that it was him.
He wakes up in the night
shaking with pain,
tears streaming down his face.
There is nothing we can do,
Two more tylenol.
Hold on to hope
for as long as you can,
It's only a matter of time now.
He gets vocal, a very loud tone.
He'll block you in your room
and make false accusations
But we know that it's the pain induced monster in him.
Tick tock, tick tock...
You can't handle the stress anymore
you have to leave.
Just hope for the best,
maybe it will get better.
Surprise, it doesn't.
Your denial is foolish, everyone knows
what happens next.
All results of
How can I be selfless without being used?
How can I be demanding without being so rude?
How can I open up without closing back down?
How can I speak if you don't hear a sound?
How can I trust without being betrayed?
Yet how could I leave... even after you stayed?
But how can you love me when I won't let you in?
So many questions.... where do I begin?
Memories now blurred, flying through my mind……
Now, I’m trying to repress the days of being youthful and blind.
Every morning I pull on my armor, right from within,
Preparing for a war, that I intend, to win.
If my heart is my comrade and my mind is the enemy,
Then in the midst of this battlefield,
Life is the remedy…
Trying to stay sane, knowing that although this is temporary, nothing is vain…
Learning that there is always a purpose and people will try to corrupt us, and bring you great shame…
Being told that ‘Victory isn't given to he who starts the race the strongest, but he who endures until the end.’
Trying to suspend you from learning to depend... on yourself,
instead making you depend on the wealth,
Of someone who doesn't even know who he is,
while you’re grasping the stealth of your true identity, in your right hand, in your heart, the knowledge…
Never been withheld
Feeling the world come crashing down on you, compacting into a mist of air so cool,
The breeze passing right through, right into the depths of your pores, to ensue,
The burning and broken and fragile pieces of the inhabitants of the earth from your birth til' now..
Physically becoming everything that you breathe, touch, conceive, munch, perceive, every aroma...
And every great or insignificant trauma, reflecting off your skin oh so temporarily, the mark so paper thin…
Physically, THAT is what you are…
Because we only see the physical, right?
Yet, behind every movie is there not a director… a cast?
And behind every painting is there not an artist, combining colors and lines so vast?
And behind every child is there not a journey, a past?
That you did not walk, yet you know that it’s there, not by sight, scent, taste, touch, or hearing... But something inside you, that says it makes sense, KNOWS that all of that is there,
Cry's of a Broken Hearted Angel
She Still Flys...
Shining Love.. Ever so Bright
Touching... Heavenly Skies
As She passes by
You can see Her.. Twinkling light
Shooting across the sky
Through the night
Her Heart tis broken
She can-not deny..
For Love she has inside
She Still Sings... can You hear
ForEver... Sweet Love
Divine and True
Come to Our Majestic King..
Come before tis too late for You!
Tho Her Heart tis broken inside
For Souls.. whomsoever be too late
For they delay.. their moments of Fate
As Her Heart Crys.. yet.. She still Shines
Tis Angel.. She Proclaims and Declares
God's Divine Love.. is for Everyone.. Everywhere..
In Hopes For Souls.. to Hear.. believe..
God's Beautiful Love
God has to give to thee
Come to Jesus Christ our King
As She still sings Love.. within Her Heart
Hoping.. Light shall shine within Souls
whomsoever come be Born-again
Eternal Love Everlasting.. Jesus Beholds
As tis Angel flys.. Hear her crys..
Come to Jesus.. Receive His Divine Love inside
Glorious Majestic Love of Christ
Grace is given for You.. Eternal Life
When you took me, you were wrong. I was under age and God knows I was'nt strong. I
was young and you forced me to pretend that my life with my family was nearly at an
end. You beat me and tortured me day after dayand when you would leave , I would
feel safe. I'd get on my knees and pray "please lord just spare me one more day".
I don't eat, I dont sleep, you'd beat me till I was weak. I don't want to die,
everyday I'd cry "someone please release me from this pain I feel inside. I've
endured so much pain that my body is numb, I silently wait for someone to come. I
wish I had wings to fly up above, to sing that I'm home to finally feel loved. the
scars from your knife will haunt me the rest of my life. You left me beaten and
bloody,I waited for an angel to find me and my wish came true from out of the blue,
God sent me an angel to show me the truth. I was empty and scared, hoping someone's
out there who might even care. was tired and cold. Will this little lost girl
soon leave this world? Someone finally came to carry me home, by the grace of
god, so that I can move on. don't know if I'll get over this, and I'll never
understand why, how another human being could take an innocent child. You took my
strength and destroyed my pride, just to satisfy that sickness that manifests in
your mind. I can't go back and change what you've done, but I have finally forgave
you so I can move on. Even though it may take some time and a lot of searching
inside,I hope you find peace while your doing your time. I'll always wonder for
the rest of my life, why you took me that day for that life altering ride.
I once was your Armageddon, your mystic legend
Times we argued, realized it was foolish and grinned
Times we laughed, time is a luxury we do not have
Let us old hands old man
The lady beside you, she sang a beautiful tune
The things we don’t want to lose
The loved ones we hate, similar to the above sons mate
The people we want to please
Those we set a perfect yet fragile image
Only to be later ceased
Precious moments we so desperately want to keep
Shh! You speak as though you’re never coming back
But I will not return, best wishes, Ur angel of sadness
I’m a survivor
I work miracles, I was yours
I was everything and nothing anyone would care for
I am still your Armageddon, your mystic legend
My objectives to make you laugh, smile, and mourn
Your rapture, warriors of eternity, a child lost and torn
Mission suffered massive failure
Let us hold hands this final hour
For your misery is ours
You can say you loved him
You can say you placed no other above him
Despite how it sounds
The individual will everyone around him
Is the loneliest person around
In memory of those whom titled him “Angel of Sadness”
All in one faded-black day
(but let None forget)
In my arms, her body lay
(my life was the price to pay)
A tragedy, through the lack of humanly shame
(do they know pain)
My darkly colleen has to suffer no more
(Robert nor do you)
Let me die
(please hear my haunted cries)
If I can not see Sophie tonight
(live on with my grey)
I'm just a mess of despairing words
And broken nerves
Another mourning, afflicted sight
(through decay, love can remain)
Solace, sympathy are just more lies
She is all I need
Until you decide she is just another sadist's toy
My Angel, why did you have to fly so far away
My Angel, just let one feather stay
My Angel has flown away
My Angel, why did you have to fly so far away
My Angel, just let one feather stay
My Angel has flown away
(My body is amortal, die I may,
Together, our hearts will forever stay)
In a land, far away, once upon a time
An ancient place, deep in mystical forests
There lived a sickly old man
The years had passed and he was but an empty shell
Even he had no memories of who he used to be
But now, in the forest, he breathed his bitterness
A small barren one room cabin
His only possession, his grumpy voice
The town, further down the hill
Was to be his only detested outing
Each month the voyage, a barter for rations
Chopped wood, for his meager means
The children would taunt and tease
This smelly aberration to their playful days
And toss pebbles and stones
What do you mutter, you ragged old man?
He pictured them in a pot of stew
Yet no smile would he spend even on this thought
And off he went back up the hill, his bitterness too
The echo’s of laughing children, now but a distant taunt
He grew older, as did his bitterness
Year by year, and like a curse he lived
Certainly not of his choosing
Almost not hearing the village sneers
One day the men elders where called away
Kings declare wars, but it’s the villagers who do battle
Times became dark, who lived who died, no one was sure
The village children wept for their fathers
The old mans monthly pilgrimage to the village
Was met with sad infant stares
His mutterings now no concern of theirs
When off in the distance, beating drums and horses hooves
Soldiers of terror, pillaged and burned
The fires and haze, arrows and swords
The villagers ran in into the forests deep
Save for some of the children, confused and dazed
The old man stood in the midst of it all
And fearing nothing, his soul long dead
The children behind him, with fear and dread
He lifted a fallen sword and felled a horsemen
The a second, a third, in vengeance did come
And he felled them too, no fear in his eyes
The others retreated, their loot in tow
Only the angel of death, left with the wind
The old man, fell to the ground
Surrounded by children, staring in shock
They carried him home, his frown, and all
And stoked his fire, and laid him to rest
When he woke the next morning
All the children were there
With smiles, be dammed, what did he care?
They chattered and praises his heroic acts
They truly saw, the beauty hidden so deep
This old man saved them, his bravery noble
His silence, and rudeness, they ignored it all
And a little boy, with wonder, said thank you grumpy
Well, against his will, a smile did appear
This little one, taken so, thought him so dear
And day by day, the children returned
And he told them stories he had long forgotten
In the forest, up in the trees
Two angel fairies, where singing in the breeze
Looking down and over the cabin
And filled with joy, for an old soul was revived
The old man, spent his days, telling stories and teaching
The children learned the ways of their past
And the old man, who once was dead
Now knew the meaning of all life ahead
The village rebuilt and returned to routine
Honored the old man, once unwashed and unseen
The children grew older, the old man passed on
And now he sits in a tree and sings in the breeze