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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

***
Pillowed feathers,
Caressing a precious moment around my tender skin.
***

Teardrops, bagged eyes, a way of sin
The mirror reveals a lost eternal soul
A conniving move against tonight's phantom glow
Voices circle the insomniac moon
Like magic and beauty, "I AM" gone with the wind

The idea of love, 
broken like yesterday's wishbone.
She is leaving
her arms, my shelter
her wings
her teardrops gone forever. 
Never will she suffer-
Never will she return-
All I have is one last memory
tracing what is left
one last breath
tequila vice
washing away the pain.....


At Last Now I See!
Under the drunken stars 
I had an epiphany 
Striking like a match
A sunken treasure 
At Last I Knew
you don't belong 
you were there for the taking
Weak and sick, no longer sane
Memories lost, no longer -her
My Mother! 
What has become of her?

You're a demon, who played us all
made us cry, while you slowly took her away
the way you ravaged her body
nip nap both her legs
fed her through a straw
the way 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 took her that final moment!

Sleepless nights and pillowed feathers,
Caressing 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
Sad & depressing mood

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A

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

Details | Free verse | |

WILLY NELSON

Willy Nelson
I heard he died last night
He was singing on the road again
He should have picked another song!

6-1-15

Not a Clerihew and pure fiction.. 
A word play off his famous song :)

Copyright © Lyric Man

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 © Faye Gibson

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 © Anne Lise Andresen

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

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

Details | Rhyme | |

For Darkness I Now Plea

For Darkness I Now Plea


Harbinger of death, 
bring ever sweet solace to me
Stop this pain,
end this bittersweet agony

Stay the hand ,
that breaks this bitter heart
Send this soul,
into everland for a new start

Another life ,
in another spiritual realm
A bright day,
joyful love not to overwhelm

Death bring thy ,
dark and deep eternal sting
Set it well,
hear me as I long to sing

Ye author of ,
life's great need to end
Demand anything ,
I have service to spend

Harbinger of death, 
bring ever sweet solace to me
Stop this pain,
end this bittersweet agony

Robert Lindley, 08-21-1977

Copyright © Robert Lindley

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

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


______________________________________________________________________
Placed 1st in "Unsung Hero" 7/2014 contest
Also 3rd. in "Portrait of a Poet" 1/2014 

Copyright © Sabrina Niday Hansel

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

Details | Free verse | |

Dementia

He was always so happy
strong and bold.
He'd give you the shirt off of his back.
Tough.
Independent.
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.
Sad
Lonely
Empty.
But like he has always done,
he got through it.
Mind slipping, 
just a little forgetful.
That's how it always starts out...
But like always, he powered through it, 
until now...
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,
Oh well...
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.
Sedation
Medication
Anger
Hurt
All results of
dementia

Copyright © Laura Hamilton

Details | Blank verse | |

he is leaving home

                            
                  In great respect of the band I grew up listening to
                       as sure as Mom passed down Saturday Chores 
                      for I had been chosen to scrub bathroom floors `

                    Yet a familiar sound would bring me to keep scrubbing
                       The red album, The blue album , The White album 
                        Then .. Abbey Road , always remembering the sad look on
                  Ringo's face ,  something hard to understand underneath~
                       
                      I get it now, what you were saying all those years ago ,
                    the many sad lonely tears , secret tears , secret fears 
                    For Maxwell's Hammer was a real one . It wanted silence

                    Going back ..remembering when John Lennon died 
                      I was in Arkansas saddened with the world .
                      Then seeing his face saying " Drag isn't it " 
                      No .. this was not my hero in music and song .

                      he was a stand in hired William , he filled his shoes 
                      bringing diversity to create so much beautiful music from loss

                       One left standing , alone;; grief struck on back cover ~
                       The other identity hidden, tried to be part of ..coming together
                                                                                                                                                                        
                            his  world of secrets
                        He to suffers today , in fear , Faul~
                       
                        Too many years gone by .let us tell the Truth. Let us be free
                         The very sad long and winding Road ~
                         Let us Bury our real Paul. 

                         No more " Mystery tour "
                             No more fear 
                                Let him be in peace ~


           Inspired by " The Last Testament of George Harrison , Is Paul Dead ? "

                





Copyright © Shanity Rain

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

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

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

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

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

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

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 night,
Both quietly passed away.

The next morning, an old woman,
Tears welling in her sad and lonely eyes,
Brought 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.  “I had a dog when I was young...
a good one too.  His name was Pal.”

Copyright © Robert Candler

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

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

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

Details | Rhyme | |

Final hour

Final Hour.

The sombre lady spoke to him
It was midnight in his room
He was lying hurting sadly there
Beneath the weight of doom
That Cancer eating at his body
Would all be over, soon.

“My child” she whispered “time is nigh
For you must come with me.
This time was chosen by the power
This be your destiny.
You’ll cross the river Styx, then home
That place where you be free’

He cried “My lady, take me not
For I have much to do
My wife, and children need me here
I cannot come with you
And lady I have so much fear
That’s eating at me too”.

“My child” the lady softly said
“Have you forgotten home?
Where the flowers bloom, and the music plays
T is a place you well have known.
You left it for this World my child
When you came here all alone”.

He smiled at her then breathed his last
And she held him to her breast.
Then they shimmered off to join the breeze
And felt loves tenderness
As the sombre lady ushered him
To the gates of happiness.

Copyright © Peter Duggan

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

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

Details | Rhyme | |

Fare well

Rivers of tears flows throughout the night
When one close to heart is out of sight
Yearning for joys we always impart
Moments we shared will always.....always beat my heart.

Shattering the time as we depart
Happy memoirs in my heart impart
Bundles of laugh may deaf an ear
Yet a gap from time will no one could ever... ever declare.

Flesh are we that flee like dust
Mingling, dwindling amongst the wind
Mingling, dwindling like billows fast
Twining, spinning our destinies pinned.

Moments we shared will always in my heart
Painted with love , for ever drawn with art.

Copyright © STEPHANY DELIMA

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

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

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