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Death Farewell Poems | Death Poems About Farewell

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

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Details | Dramatic Verse | |

Sleepless Night

Sleepless Night

***
Teardrops, bagged eyes, a way of sin
The mirror reveals a lost eternal soul
A conniving move against tonight's phantom glow
Voices circle around the insomniac moon
Like magic and beauty, "She's Gone With the Wind."

The idea of love, 
broken like yesterday's wishbone.
She is leaving today,
her arms, my shelter
her wings now immense.
Beauty --- she's gone forever! 
Never will she suffer-
Never will she return-
All I have are lost memories,
tracing what is left.
One final deep breath
tequila vice
to wash away the pain.....

At Last, Now I See!
Under the drunken stars 
I had an epiphany 
Stricken like a match
A sunken treasure 
At Last, I Knew
You did not belong in there,
you were there for the taking
Frail and sick, no longer sane.
Memories lost, no longer - her
My Mother! 

What has become of her since? 
You're a demon, who played us all
Made us cry, while she slowly withered away

The way you laid waste to her body
nipping both her legs
Fed her through a stubble

She rapidly forgot
our names'
our faces'
I hate you Alzheimer
I hate the way you took her the first time!
I hate you Death
I hate the way you claimed her final moment!
***

Sleepless nights and pillowed feathers,
Caress a precious moment around my tender skin
Pretending my mother tucked them in
Anything to help me get past my sleepless nights.


7-08-13

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

Soul mates solace

When my final shadows cling on desperately
Where I fight formidable battles
to merely hold the light
I send you loving vibrations
and soul sustenance
Deep from the cathedral
of one heart to another
where today no choirs sing
nor symphonies play
Yet it is here where we meet
in spiritual solace
here to surrender 
and exchange inestimable treasures
recollecting memories 
like unopened letters
Galaxies are stretched
over chronicles of shared history
Nebula birthing stars
will be exposed
in forth-coming conversations
bringing short-lived fulfillment to you
Hungry to feast
now will be the time
to approve your blood art vision
and with my own haunting surrender
as dappled shades ink stain your chest
I will reside with you and share, mesmerised 
pens - by branding
as this will be your written reams to me
your artist's pallet or brushed canvas
no need for words
and yet creating
mysterious magical moments
Bitter-sweet the music
that dances taut guitar strings
but now blood approved
please go kick your heel up
return to your laughter
and ride on the breeze
for not all are lost
change not
for I am with you always
to love, listen and comfort as one
with you in me and I in you
as masterpiece

Copyright © Anna-Marie Docherty | Year Posted 2013

Details | Elegy | |

The Last Gold Leaf

The last gold leaf hangs on the bough;
Summer is just a mem'ry now.
You, too, have gone, my golden friend;
Our summer days came to an end.

We said goodbye; our chapter closed.
 How I will miss you no one knows.
 On eagle wings you split the skies;
Your spirit soared. You had to fly.

My earthbound soul will bear its grief
Severed from you on mortal reef;
But returning from yonder shore,
Your love in waves will wash me o'er.

You've gone before, my trusted love;
I wait behind, your mourning dove;
Yet, from across the great divide
Your voice to me in dreams confides.

No, I think not that dreams they are;
T is communion of the near with far.
On such sweet songs I stake my claim
To know and love you once again.

Copyright, 1987, Faye Gibson

Copyright © Faye Gibson | Year Posted 2014

Details | Marsiya | |

I'm my Daddy Made Over

Dedicated to my Dad Jerry W. Niday 3/20/1952 - 6/18/2013


I am who I am because of him
He’s the reason for my son’s name
He gave me my courage & my strength
To stand tall even when standing wasn’t easy
Stand for the ones who can’t
To think and fend for myself
I’m my Daddy made over

Taught me to fight back 
To never back down
How to pick myself back up
When I’ve been knocked down
Fight for what I believe
I’m my Daddy made over

He gave me my stubbornness 
Gave me my pride
Gave me my temper
Taught me not to take crap
To speak my mind no matter who
Work for what I want
I’m my Daddy made over

How to keep my emotions in check
How to handle large amounts of pain
When in trouble he always had my back
He knew how my mind worked better than anyone
I got it from him
I’m my Daddy made over

Even though he’s gone
I’ll stand and continue on 
I may stumble I may fall 
May even get hurt along the way
But I’ll pick myself back up
I’ll dust myself off and stand tall
I’m honored and proud to say
I’m my Daddy made over


Sabrina Niday Hansel

Copyright © Sabrina Niday Hansel | Year Posted 2013

Details | Haiku | |

- Haiku X 43 - The Death-


               Christmas sparkling lights
               Weak brightness through tearful eyes
               Unexpected death






              27.12.2014
              A-L Andresen
              Copyright © All Rights Reserved 

Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

Bill


R.I.P. William Dale Eubanks
d. July 1, 2012, aged 68 yrs., Tennessee Ridge, Tennessee

Death came as no surprise
the first Sunday in July;
it claimed you, on a ridge in Tennessee,
with kin who took you in and waited with you
through the last hard days.
You kept what fears you had well hid,
did not betray with loud complaint
the fate you could not but know awaited.
A smile, a joke, a hug – exotic meals –
And genuine interest greeted all you met.
And you were, certainly, never boring
but well-traveled and smart
beyond the telling.
We’ll miss your wit, your bright demeanor,
and will remember all you freely gave ---
and what you took from us
with your passing.

Copyright © Leo Larry Amadore | Year Posted 2012

Details | Ballad | |

Disturbed Child

That disturbed child
The teen girl with no friends, 
and is rejected by her loved ones
She feels broken inside,
like theres no other choice
She takes the iron razor, 
she puts it to her arm and hopes the pain will fade,
but in the end it only makes her feel worse
She does this to herself not because she is sad, 
but because she doesn't think any one cares
She thinks 
What if I put this razor to my throat,
and ended my life
Would they care then?
She feels like no one cares 
What she doesn't realize is, 
if she died a river of tears would come,
even faster then the blood would run from her
If she only knew life can be brighter 
If she would only see, 
that she is loved
That disturbed child, 
We miss her
and theres no getting her back
What could we have done
Was there any changing her mind
Only God knows

Copyright © Trevor Bain | Year Posted 2012

Details | Elegy | |

Farewell to Innocence

Read this if you have the time,
I'm compelled these words to write--
Seems my parent's age of innocence
Is drawing near, the light.

For the poetry and cinema,
And the songs like "Stardust," too--
Are turning to a memory
And fading from our view.

But it was an age of innocence!
I knew it as a boy.
Where has gone the happiness;
And how escaped the joy?

Still the golden age is dying
And it whispered with a breathe--
"Don't let us pass away in vain,
And dye a common death."

So forgive me if I prattle on
But it seems the thing to do--
I placed flowers on the old today,
And will now endure, the new.

Farewell ole age of innocence,
My kind and gentle friend--
Till Buddy and the Teddy Bear
Take the stage and sing again!

Copyright © Mel Merrill | Year Posted 2014

Details | Dramatic Verse | |

the day you flew to Heaven


           We knew , it was if a moment stopped in time 
              hearing the news before most of the World did
           He loved to fly his plane from Colorado to Monterey Bay
           He was a avid golfer at Pebble Beach respected 

           He had loves and passions from many places 
           deciding to fly low through the overcast red sunset
            Not only did he love music and inspire all 
            He loved his Plane , he will always remain a beautiful Soul

              The next day it was confirmed ..all saddened 
             It was John Denver's plane that went down
             Today in Pacific Grove stands the Memorial 
             So Kiss me and smile for me we will ~
              always in loving memory 
               OH babe ,  do we hate you go ~    
                            
    

         Inspired by ; contest in Music and Loss of an Artist
                   "Leaving on a Jet Plane "
             

Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013

Details | I do not know? | |

Letting go

As I lye awake and think of you
my heart always feels so blue.

I try my best to move on, but it's hard to do 
since you've been gone.

Thou my heart feels like it's bleeding, I can't 
stop how I'm feeling.

People say time will heal the pain but, at times
I feel I'm going insane.

I pray to god everyday, he makes my 
pain go away.

I will always love you with all my heart, and know 
that one day the healing will start.

But, until that day comes around I will never forget
when we laid you in the ground.

So, please God help me understand why daddy let go of my hand.

Copyright © rola safi-henson | Year Posted 2014

Details | Narrative | |

The Empty Tissue Box

My heart was in such pain
I felt like I was going to go insane
I just don't know what to do 
And my eyes full of tears that distort my view

I fell to my knees and felt the urge
My muscle tighten and pin needles struck me like a surge
My body was warm and with feelings so confused
My mind felt sadness had fused

I could not conquer my fears
I just sat down and fell into tears
When some close to you passes on
It felt like a warmth has gone

So I raised my hand towards a box that was empty with no tissue
I first was embarrass and had a little bit of issue
All my friends hugged me and said sorry for your loss
So now I cry in my bed and toss


April 14, 2013

Copyright © Reynaldo Mast | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme | |

Pal

Bob had been a lonely man ever since
His wife of fifty years had passed.
“Lord, let me join her.” he would pray.
“Let this day be my last.”

Each day, he went to the cemetery,
Just a short walk down the street.
After their talk, he would water her flowers
And hear passers-by whisper, “How sweet.”

One gray and misty morning,
He had hoped for sunnier skies
To plant fall bloomers at her graveside;
But there, to his surprise…

Stood an old dog beside her stone;
Thin and dirty, but he struck a handsome pose.
He whined as Bob approached, as if to say,
“I could use a friend, you know.”

He sat calmly as Bob planted flowers,
Carefully sniffing each one Bob put in place.
Then, after the last one was planted,
He sniffed it; then turned and licked Bob’s face.

Bob smiled. “I had a dog when I was young…
Pal…he was a mighty good one too.
So, if you don’t mind old fella,
That’s what I’ll call you.”

Pal may have been an old dog,
But he was smart and handsome in his way;
So they made a deal, Bob would give him a meal
And a bath, if he decided to stay.

Pal loved his bath, then rolled in the grass.
He slept on a blanket in the den.
In the night, he dragged it next to Bob’s bed. 
He intended to be Bob’s best friend.

Pal was such a good dog, housebroken too;
Never made a mess or got in trouble.
He knew about newspapers, slippers and Frisbees;
And when Bob called, he‘d come on the double.

Yes, Pal gave Bob’s life new purpose.
A special bond of friendship was cast.
And never again did Bob pray, 
“Lord, let this day be my last.”

For twelve years, the very best of friends,
Together night and day;
And so it was, until one evening,
Pal quietly passed away.

Bob held Pal in his arms and wept.
“Oh, Pal…my best friend…you saved my life.” 
He caressed Pal as he reminisced;
Then, sometime in the night, Bob joined his wife.

The next morning, an old woman,
Tears welling in her sad and lonely eyes,
Brought fresh flowers to her husband’s grave;
But there, to her surprise….

Stood an old dog beside the stone, 
Thin an dirty, but he struck a handsome pose.
He whined as she approached, as if to say,
“I could use a friend, you know.”

He sat calmly as she took old flowers
And put fresh ones in their place. 
He carefully sniffed the fresh ones,
Then, turned and licked her face.

She smiled through her tears.  
“I had a dog when I was young...
A good one too.  His name was Pal.”

Copyright © Robert Candler | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

Under the Tall Trees

Of dust, of dirt;
suspended, lost, remarkable.

Of no merit;
forgotten, under the tall trees.

And bury him;
No accurate history serves.

Under cross;
buried in sand,
buried in dirt.

His face will carry forth,
past this miserable state.

To birth,
to die;
forth not.

Behold;
of man, 
of earth.

Of dust, of dirt;
suspended, found, 
frozen in time.

Copyright © Adam Lefaivre | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme | |

Understanding Gods Love

Christmas, so full of life, and miracles, was found wanting this year.
A young mother sat by her daughter’s hospital bed, racked with tears.
Her daughter was sleeping way too still; her last breaths would soon come.
How could this happen to so beloved a child, she was way, too very, young.

Where was God’s wisdom, in taking a six year old, or her father as taken in war?
Church, friends, family, others, and her, had prayed till they could pray no more.
They’d ask for her: to walk in the sun, and play again, with family to hold her hand.
But her time was gone, like in an hourglass; the sand was almost, completely gone.

The mother was afraid to pray anymore… what could it accomplish any more?
What the disease hadn't taken, the cure had, nothing left, but for her soul, to soar.
But how could she hand her to the angels? Strangers had always frightened her child.
No, she sobbed, she’s way to young! Still she knew: life was never fair… or mild.

Where was God when you need him! Please don’t take her away! Her mind riled!
When suddenly, her daughter opened her eyes, and smiled her little, tired smile.
She whispered: Papa’s here… to hold my hand… He’s taking me… where I can play.
At that the fear receded… as she said she loved her… then watched her fade away.

Perhaps her prayers HAD been answered… She’d had her time with her, after all.
Now her Husband, would take her place… Perhaps it was his turn, to carry on.
Tears would still be shed… It was natural for that to happen, when this befalls.
But she knew her daughter now had everything, including The Great Father’s Love.

There are many types of Christmas magic, but as her time came to a close…
A mother’s love can’t be beat, except by God’s Love, for us all…

Copyright © Carol Eastman | Year Posted 2013

Details | Lyric | |

The Dance

                                               The Dance

                                             Dance she said
                                             As this short life
                                             Nears it end.
                                             Dance she said
                                             Nothing I can do
                                             But leave this pain
                                             As I fade from you.

                                             Dance she said
                                             Try to remember
                                             A heart that bled.  
                                             Dance she said
                                             Be as one together  
                                             Before I must depart
                                             Our love forever.

                                             Dance she said
                                             Hold arms around me
                                             As my eyes circle red.
                                             Dance she said 
                                             Glide me as before
                                             While music echoes
                                             Across this floor. 

                                             Dance she said
                                             Catch my falling tears
                                             And things all unsaid.
                                             Dance she said
                                             Moments light my face
                                             With visions of heaven
                                             This our last embrace.   

Copyright © William Gray | Year Posted 2015

Details | Romanticism | |

The Blue Poet

I am the Blue Poet.
The uneasy man.
Who longs to be loved,
or just to have a friend.

My heart whisphers a low melody
on a faint, cool evening
thinking of her.
Once in my arms,
laying on my bed of roses.
Now she is gone.
I cannot think anymore!
It is hard, to love again,
When all your love has been taken away.
... I am the Blue Poet.

I am the Blue Poet,
That walks the bluish, dawn and dew covered streets
in the the October evenings and nights.
But I tell you, I wasn't always so blue.
No! I was once alive... happy... romantic,
... till Love went away!

Now I sit in the wayward poetry clubs,
drinking club soda and snapping my fingures
to a finished performance on a poem about love.
Written by a soft, spoken seventeen year old girl.

Soon, it is my turn to give my poem a read.
I stand on a lone stage, with a spotlight drownding me in blindness.
I face the faces, who look at me and smile.
A clap, and a cough, bring my head up.
I look out upon the sitting crowd.
To see that one face
that speaks to me,
without the movement of the mouth.
The face never showed though, and my head fell back down.

I start to read.
A vase of emotions kill me and swallow me up.
I try to hold back tears, but no more could I halter.
I finished, with a salty tear, rolling down my rough and oiled cheek.
I leave the crowd at ovation
and leave the women, all with tears in their eyes.

I come down from the stage, leaving the bright spotlight.
I shake hands, give hugs,
and collect my pay, and have another round of club soda.
Then, I go down the midnight alleyways of sprinkled city streets
finding myself a cozy room.

I think of her for a moment,
then off to sleep.
I dream of one time laughs, and hugs and kisses.
I cry in my sleep,
...For I am the Blue Poet.

Copyright © Chris Boskovski | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme | |

Death Of A Beloved Friend

Death Of A Beloved Friend

O Friend, when thou hadst uttered thy brief tale
Our hearts grew still as flowers that watch the stars,
Through long windless nights.
  Yea, men shall hear;
Far sea whispering, and the feet of them
That walk the earth in mercy, though they be
The other side of the world; and to that end 
Poets shall wander by in loneliness,
As thou hast wandered by. We know not yet
How weak our knowing, and how little availeth
The little that we know, for we have lost,
The deep heart to listen;
  Down the widening gap,
In unimaginable glory streams
The flood of light we share within our souls,
Revealing all the beauty that shall be
For them that will abide in its purity.

R.J. Lindley
1985

Note: 
That long black curtain has fallen,
youthful skies hold no more joy;
Dreams we once heard callin'
are but false hope we now employ.
Time, that elusive and dark bandit,
speeds away on a mere whim;
splashing whale if we could but land it-
Never! That light is now fading and dim.

Too soon , blackness engulfs the light;
gone onto its mysterious early reward,
all that remains, cold lonely in the night,
living left behind, that is going to be hard.

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse | |

Angel of Death

Angel of Death,
Cloaked in black.
With black scaled wings,
Upon her back.
Angel of Death,
Coming for me.
As soon as I sleep
Then dead I will be.
Taken by the night
It swallows and consumes me.
Now I am the angel
And death becomes me.

2003-2004
7th Grade

Copyright © Andrea Rose | Year Posted 2013

Details | Verse | |

Chilled Dawn

She is shadowed by fuzzy cobwebs of a morning without coffee,
while dust motes mingle with the mold of time.
Gazing out to the yard, through dingy glass, and fog, 
into a dismal January, she hopes to catch a glimpse of the paper boy.
He travels through rain, sleet or snow, how could he understand, 
(this teen-aged Paul Revere), that in this decrepit old house, 
she is longing for a sign of youth? It has been a weary night, watching an old woman hang on by threads of life, that had worn thin years ago. 
Watching and waiting, while cold winds blew and snow was falling,  
and death was hoping to make a house call.
Any diversion, life being lived,... one brief eclipse of life in motion would be a relief.
To observe him toss the news into the sky like a Frisbee... not a care in the world
How would that feel...has she ever known? Has anyone ever been so young?
She thinks she may go mad with death and dying, with weariness, with waiting.
She suddenly shivers from a dreaded draft of frigid air, slithering in,
like a sneaky, uninvited ghost, slinking in around the rim. 

       nor'easter winds                                                roll top shoe box...
      splinter the silence..               --                     debutante' caught in amber
        a cataract view                                                   frozen sepia  

Grabbing a handful of a thread-bare doily,  she polishes the cold glass, 
rubbing vigorously in circles against the grime, 
making figure eights, in spite of frozen, stiff, fingers.  
Satisfied, that she has a decent view of the blanketed yard,
and can see clearly where the muddy, gravel driveway,
bends gradually, curving to mate with the snow banked road,
at last, she spies the old Jeep coming, and watches with automated eyes, 
yet, with some expectation, and strange excitement. 
Then, as she might have guessed,
the teenager drives hurriedly by, barely slowing down, tossing the news,
and leaving her gaze and her thoughts, splattered by dark murky water, 
while the slinging gravel that has been pitched into the sky, by his screeching tires,
falls like the pieces of the old woman's lonely life upon the pristine snow. 




__________________________________________
For Deb's Contest: "Mix It Up"

Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme | |

december day

December day

There are no words that we can say,
About the tragedy that happened on that December day.
When an elementary school came under attack
And all those little lives will never come back.

Our hearts cry out and eyes fill with tears,
For the parents who now have to face their worst fears.
Their child is gone taken away
On that tragic December day.

Innocent children from age’s five to ten,
What could they have possibly done to meet such a tragic end.
And to the teachers whose lives were also lost,
You protected the children and paid the ultimate cost.

written by nancy stoy

Copyright © nancy stoy | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

Sense of Touch

That Bench He goes there every day; to that bench in the shade; Where his shoes have formed small clearings in the gravel; where his wool sport coat has rubbed smooth the paint. He goes there every day, to that bench in the shade where the squirrels eat straight from his hand as little birds frantically snatch up seeds he's sprinkled about. He goes there every day, to that bench in the shade but not today…and not again.
08/30/15 Submission for Contest: The Sense of Touch Sponsored by: Nette Onclaud

Copyright © The Grahamburglar | Year Posted 2015

Details | Elegaic Lyric | |

Pygmy Forest Song

I lost you out there.
You never came on home.
I called for you and I called to you,
but you never came on home.

I lost you out there,
in the bushes and the brush.
I called for you and I yelled for you,
but you never did come home.

Don't say you couldn't hear me.
I won't listen if you do.
I lost you, and I left you,
and you never came on home.

I lost you out there,
but it's what you seemed to want.
I yelled for you for nights and days,
but you never once yelled back.

I walked and walked between the trees,
squinting toward the sun.
I called for you and I screamed for you,
but no, you never did come home.

Copyright © Kendra Ruczak | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme | |

Death's Often Promises A Needed Relief

Death's Often Promises A Needed Relief

Death oft' walks paths both light and dark,
desperately shallow and sometimes deep,
riding on purest truth so eternally stark
sometimes revealed in dreams we sleep.

So often as feared as a mad tiger raging,
with fangs showing and claws so long,
oft' a remedy to that of our painful aging
saddest melody in that dying song.

Often sweet is it's gliding shadowy mist,
time and walls silently passing,
seeking bright flowers on eternity's list
its great finality all encompassing.

Sadness is it's taking of the very young,
taken in such softened early bloom,
joy stopped, life so tragically unsung
left behind heartache's empty room.

Sometimes that promise so eagerly sought,
when in misery and unending pain,
comes with blessing of a last train caught
and the joy of much needed rain.

A gift when time has then sadly taken away,
joy, happiness and one's true love,
bright sun shining on each and every day
showering a new light from above.

 07-23-2015
For the contest, Any Sad Poem, sponsor, Broken Wings 

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

Wisps

"Friend,
Mind wandering through misty woods.
You don't understand your purpose.
Friend,
I knew you too little,
Please do not shed your salty emotions,
Not out of anger, not out of sadness.
Friend,
You now lose your way so easily,
You sink, you burst, you burn inwardly.
You weep from frustrations, 
From the guilt of an honest smile,
From pains, that you forget for a moment,
That come swiftly back to haunt you of your loss.
I understand, dear friend.
You once had a light and the woods seek to snuff it out.
Do not fear, dear friend,
Friend follow me, as I once did you.
Friend, now you see?
Yes, you see,
The little wisps in the fog that guide us home."

~In memory of Bill Hamman, and all else who have suffered the pains of Alzheimer's

Copyright © Lauren Johnson | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme | |

His name was Jim

All were gathered 'round the fire when White Bear asked, "Where's Jim?                                                                         It's cold as heck out here tonight, could someone look for him?"
Ragged Sally volunteered and Uncle Buck did too,
together they would look for Jim down Second avenue.

Up and down and round and round but Jim was nowhere seen,
for supper he was always game and late he'd never been.
A cold wind blew as snowflakes fell upon the icy street,
just one more round they said they'd make before they'd quit the beat.

Sally thought she'd heard a moan, or was it just the wind?
Buck thought best to head on back, tomorrow try again.
As they crossed the little bridge 'bove Second avenue,
Buck saw something moving on the pavement down below.

There lay Jim in his crumpled vest with eyes toward the sky,
they rushed to him but 'twas too late as both began to cry.
He never mentioned family or gave out his last name,
to think he'd passed without their knowledge truly was a shame.

The paper said a homeless man was found under a bridge,
the obit left him nameless so his homie's made a pledge.
Today in big bold letters on the bridge just near the rim,
their message rings out loud and clear-

THE DEAD MAN'S NAME WAS JIM

Copyright © The Seeker | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse | |

Mystery Of A Dead Child

Pardoned through the postmortem black
The green air like gas driving through
The dense flakes laid on my head.

My body lay heavy with the sunken Red Sea.
My clearness clear all eyes, I feel nothing now,
Not the vivacious flashes of a Summer Lady

Nor the rowdy screams of children at funerals.
My body lay cold, cold as a ferret’s nose,
I could hear it scream through pale October.

And all I remember in the weary twilight:
The seat belt clamped against my silent heart
My body threw itself from the vigor of metals,

Your hell widens to the flush of my form
And I felt my psyche evaporate in the clear air
Flashes of red and blue tango perfumery against the senseless black.

And all I remember in the weary twilight
Was a slim light calling my concealed name… I answered.
The red and blue steadily vanished in the blackness.

I watch my numb body lay flat on silver
Piecing together the weary twilight of red and blue
And shutting doors, though dead stiff, it was nothing new.

Copyright © Marcus Bailey | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme | |

Acceptance Accepted

She prayed, 'Oh now I lay me down to sleep...'
Though these familiar words scarce passed her lips, 
She sighed, 'I pray the Lord my soul to take.'
Embraced God's poem of lunar eclipse.

She thought, 'My room's width - twelve lovely dresses, 
The height of my sky is a bluebird’s flight, 
The depth of my ocean just one deep breath, 
But vision’s boundaries are my mind’s sight.'

'Let me welcome my death as I have life, 
Knowing where I am is where I belong, 
Say farewell to my soul’s earthly temple, 
My music yield to a heavenly song.'

'Loved ones…! Please don’t shower me with flowers, 
Or let me die with senses dulled to pain, 
See your gentle hearts are my protection………
Oh God….! You’re here! My tears feel just like rain . . .   .     .       .! '

Copyright © Brian Johnston | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

Farewell, alas

Farewell, alas, our ways now part
At the forking of the road
You leave me now with willing heart
And I must carry still the load

Farewell, alas, bravely once here
You walked in sun and dew
And never did I see a tear
To make this choice, so well thought through.

Farewell, alas, I love you more now
Than when my company you keep
But coming to hills bright brow
You spoke of promises to keep.

Farewell, alas, what courage gleams
And you insistent to know beyond the mist
While I raging defer with screams
The myth that something else be ever better than this.

Farewell, alas, I miss you on the sunless shore
At the forking road you left my side
And I walk on alone, alone the poor
And empty world your parting must abide.

Copyright © David Smalling | Year Posted 2009

Details | Rhyme | |

Farewell/ My Time To Go

My friends I've  grown tired and am in need
of a rest.
A inviitation  to a farewell banquet.
Please be my guest.

When everything begins  to move 
slow.
I'll need no advice.
For I'll know its time  to go.

I hope i made you laugh as  well as think.
Farewell I'll bid you after this 
last drink.

The road was many things  but never boring.
Sleep in peace like children.
And some old man snoring.

I thank you all.
As I drift were the dark waters flow.
No tears should touch your cheeks.
For its my time to go.

No longer within sight.
But always within your heart.
Why worry over tommorow when one day
we shall all depart.

Old friends rest well knowing this is not the 
last time you will see my face.
for we will gather somewhere beyond 
are final resting place.

Where one flower dies  another will always grow.
I love you all.
But for now it's my time to go.

Copyright © John Patrick Robbins AKA Gonzo | Year Posted 2009

Details | Dramatic Verse | |

The last

As I lay my head upon your chest
Listen closely as you breathe
I can feel your heartbeat racing
At the thoughts of you and me.
And I never thought I'd see the day
When your breath would finally cease
The beating of your heart no longer
Beat for you and me.

I could scream into the evening
Think of all of my regrets
The things I always thought of you
But to scared to have said.
I can feel the demons calling
They are clawing from within 
I would gladly trade my life for you
So you could of seen how much you meant.

I've been staring at your grave stone now
And it feels like it's been years
And my face is red and burning from 
A million falling tears.
I only feel uncertain 
Worlds been blown away.
What I wouldnt do to just
Have another day.

And as I draw my last breath
My heart beats slow and shallow
I can feel you on my chest
You tell me I can follow.
I can see you after all
Your always certain smile
The door is open here we go
We enter through the hollow.

Together after all
We made it through the fall.....

Copyright © Antonio Swider | Year Posted 2016