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Halloween Death Poems | Death Poems About Halloween

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

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Details | Free verse |

FORBIDDEN

~ZOMBIE NIGHT~ 

WHINING WHISPERS MOVE ACROSS FORBIDDEN LAND
Rugged ruins crumble silent through the night
Echoes of the dead roam the air
Moonlight vanishes to complete despair
Bones slowly desert distorted resting homes
Ascension of the dead -Longing to live again 

Sands of desert flip the hour glass back
WHIMPERING WHISPERS MOVE ACROSS FORBIDDEN LAND
Rugged ruins crumble silent through the night
Echoes of the dead roam the air
Moonlight vanishes to complete despair
Bones slowly desert distorted resting homes 

Taking light from where evil strays 
Feeding away leaving behind a death valley zone
WONDERING WHISPERS MOVE ACROSS FORBIDDEN LAND
Rugged ruins crumble silent through the night
Echoes of the dead roam the air
Moonlight vanishes to complete despair

Dead souls forsake the common land
Shadowing like Equinox light 
Walking corpse covered in rotten barren sand
WINDY WHISPERS MOVE ACROSS FORBIDDEN LAND 
Rugged ruins crumble silent through the night
Echoes of the dead roam the air

Upright, forward broken taboo 
Searching for the perfect breath of fresh air
Sounds of symbols march the ground
Searching to find their missing heartbeat
WHISKING WHISPERS MOVE ACROSS FORBIDDEN LAND
Rugged ruins crumble silent through the night


Ascension of the dead  -Long to live again 
Bones slowly desert distorted resting home
Moonlight vanishing in complete despair
Echoes of the dead roam the air
Rugged ruins crumble silent through the night
WHEN WHISPERS MOVE ACROSS FORBIDDEN LAND

by;PD


Details | Rhyme |

On Halloween Night

I hear the October winds whispering and I think it knows,
as the witching hour arrives and a harvest moon glows,
only once a year, do we celebrate death on Halloween night,
it is a time for remembrance, and not a time for fright.

As dead leaves come to life, once more, somehow they know,
on the twisted claw-like branches, I see the excitement grow,
black bats take their flight and wise owls call out to you,
it seems strange, but I imagine that they all know, too.

I ask you now, my dearly departed ancestors, to arise,
come and dance with me, there is no need for disguise,
on this one dark, Halloween night, it is the only time,
when we can feel truly alive and so morbidly sublime.

Let me wipe away the ancient moss from your tombstone,
come forth with dust and decay, your shroud and bone,
feel the warm glow from this carved out jack o' lantern,
and watch his lit, grinning soul, may it flicker and burn.

You must still remember the candy corn's sweet flavor,
and those crisp apples, with juicy bite after bite to savor,
it is only on this night when we can taste this rare treat,
and it is only on this Halloween night when we can meet.

Tonight will not be your usual haunting among the graves,
or beneath the dead willow tree, weeping, shackled like slaves,
you are free to wander, to celebrate, and honor our past,
until the morning sun rises, on this Eve that will not last.

So come with me now and our spirits will live once more,
as we roam down our old streets, and visit door to door,
let us go, and lead them all in our mysterious nighttime parade,
where we can finally be ourselves, no need for a masquerade.



Details | Blank verse |

yellow dress

if i woke up from
on the kitchen table
and saw her standing
there at the fridge
pouring tomato juice
into her bloody mouth,
wearing nothing
but that yellow dress
she cut in half
last halloween after walking
to the river where she
said the most beautiful things
about dancing with the moon
right before throwing up
something black & fleshy-pink
on the rock where i was sitting,
& we walked back to eat
a fried egg standing
next to the stove where
she would light her cigarettes
swigging shady ladys, silently
listening to my developing dissatisfaction
& some sort of lingering love,
if she was here right now,
staring blankly at flies buzzing,
i wouldn't be surprised,
even if it has been three years since she died.


Details | Narrative |

The Old Man

Up on a hill there was an old house and in it lived Abigail, a young lady without a spouse. One day her doorbell rang and she went to the door. There stood an old man, his head to the floor. He appeared scared and weak so she let him come in, for if she didn’t it’d be a sure sin. The old man smiled and gave his thanks, and she said, “Not to worry, there’s no need to thank.” Abigail and the elder talked for quite a long time. Sharing story after story, and soon drinking wine. The two became very good friends and laughed, and laughed ‘til night came to end. When the next day dawned, they went for a walk, down at the pond they decided to stop. It was frigid and misty, but they enjoyed the stroll because their friendship was warmer than the wind’s dreadful cold. As they stood in front of the calm, cool pond, Abigail asked, “Where do you come from?” The old man laughed a deep, dark laugh, “I come from the boneyard, the place of last breaths. I am the man, which many name Death.” The creeping old man then pulled out a knife and slashed Abigail’s throat before she could fright. Her life left instantly, her body grew cold, and the elder’s smile sparkled like gold. The pond was hungry and the old man knew that Abigail’s corpse would have to go soon. He tied a brick to both of her feet and tossed her away into the deep. As her body sunk into the watery blue, the elder stood there and felt renewed. Back on the trail the aged man went. Not a worry in mind, no remorse ever meant. He did what had to be done, to the grave his soul belonged. The elder approached another ol’ house. He rang the doorbell and waited, innocent as a mouse.


Details | Villanelle |

Deadly Raven

Sitting atop the old decaying tree Is a deadly raven quite pathetic Where his lusting eyes do more than just see An unsuspecting group thinks they are free Raven thinks of a move that’s genetic Sitting atop the old decaying tree No-one knows what it’s like to truly be One of this group, death is just magnetic Where his lusting eyes do more than just see Down he swoops taking one soul completely Returns to tree, looking quite poetic Sitting atop the old decaying tree The raven smiles as he caws wickedly Soul collecting might be more aesthetic Where his lusting eyes do more than just see The raven flies high looking lustfully All that he’s collected that’s prophetic Sitting atop the old decaying tree Where his lusting eyes do more than just see
Russell Sivey


Details | Rhyme |

Hah Ha Hah Holloween Night

Fingers,the bones,
     Force through a casket,
A body appears,
     Or should I say,what's left,
Groans and moans,
      Earth bursting all around,
Covering my ears,
      Shutting out this horrible sound,
Countless dead,
      Raising from the ground,
In your chest,
      Twice as fast your heart pound,
Searching for the living,
       This Halloween night,
Better not be caught,
        It won't be a wonderful sight....

Creepy,scary,laugh,hah,ha,hah...


Details | Rhyme |

Halloween Me

As the fog rolled in it sighed a relief
As the color of sin is the same as belief
I looked in the glass of the old horror show
And staring back at me was a man I didn't know
He smiled and said my don't you look grand
Believe in yourself go ahead take my hand
I curled my toes and flew head first
Into this glass of truth and birth
The jagged edges cut me so
I bled the truth and now we know
This man that stared at me so kind
Was really the trick not the treat of my mind
I watched my past soak unto the spell
Of nightly tricks and treats from hell
We looked the same both him and I 
We danced the blame of each others good lie
And now we both are ready to die
As the Halloween of death came near my eyes


Details | Rhyme |

desiring the Vampire

                 
                 It was the Southern French window blowing open 
                    he came in the night no word spoken 
                The eyes so sensual and piercing me as if nothing matters
                     he is all I think of now as each day I grow weaker

               I will soon die unsure of my fate 
                  my life I will give to him a offering I ask him to take
               This man so desirable with dark eyes and hair
                  even if he is not a man but a beast 
                I no longer care I submit to the last drop of blood

                 As I lay with a cotton white gown in a locked room 
                   I throw my rope of Garlic far to be seen 
                 Nothing can stop this now longing and lustful 
                      feeling like I'm in a forever dream  

                    I wait for him too enter 
                       I wait for him
                                  willing to die 
                               I wait losing my Religion
                                   The Vampires offering am I              
                                   
                          

                 " For That Archaic Poets contest " Shanity Rain 


Details | Free verse |

THE HAUNTING

Entombed behind isolation walled
 Prison,
A haunting malice trapped me within.
Crouching beneath shadows shroud,
 Leering eyes pierce.
Through darkness’s pitch black,
 Covenant.
Pacing beast intercepting motions,
 Movements, mocking my,
Feeble attempts to evade frenzy's,
 Tormentor.
Deceptions deceiver, silver tongued, 
Weaver, spewing lies deceit.
Intricately aligning it's widow,
 Makers webbing,
Feasting on innocence betrayal.
Heckling, laughter echoes, against,
 Dead reckoning.
A chilling appetizing, as if pleased,
 At malice’s intent.
Fiendishly, delighting in torturing,
It’s human pet.
A vacant mumbling feeling over,
 Comes reasoning,
A deeper anger begins to rage,
Rebelling against hatred’s,
Horrifying entity.
Motivated to survive beyond spectral,
 Captivity.
Hear my disgust, creature,
 I shall destroy thee.
Leave me alone, screaming aloud,
 Sanity's domain gives way.
In musty halls empty hollows,
 An odorous stench.
Fills mine senses,
Cease mortal miscreant,
 None leave here alive,
Shudders blood runs cold down raw
 Veins nerve endings,
A deepening realizations rushes,
 The conscious mind,
I'm deaths play thing.
To be pounced upon, a toy mouse,
 Caught between claws,
Extracting, retracting at whims invoking.
Invisible hands grasp choking life's,
 Breath away.
Feeling every heartbeat slowing,
 Quietly ceasing.
Stinging painfully ringing at ear, 
Shots quivering,
Oblivion's mute murmurs never part,
Lips tightly closed.
Let mercy's fallen be forgiven,
 Released from,
Beyond hells hidden regions,
A place devoid of spiritual salvation.
Foul demonic spirit haunting,
 A madman's kingdom,
It whispers to me in sweet melodies,
 Aftershock.
Now we begin, and you truly belong to me,
With satisfactions grimace, it smiles.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN


Details | Free verse |

The River home

It was a home on the river we lived .
It was the ghost of a young man whom had taken his own life.

I still remember the vision of him walking by me with a blank stare 
We,  as a Family of  seven , moved into this river house 
Panoramic views right out to the river , I should mention

I was home alone as a child , looking out at "The Julia Belle Swan " as she went by .
Upstairs in that room as I saw a figure walking by , with very nice features , auburn hair 
I thought he was my older brother , a handsome young guy 

Then I realized the young man was not my brother , a  apparition he appeared .
He was not there to scare or frighten , 
the message I believe he wanted to shed light on, so clear.

He walked right by ,then disappeared through the window, out to the River .

The Ghost knew I could see him , a gift I have been given
when I was a younger child of five , I had once died for a short time. I was lifted by Jesus in Heaven . Death is not for us to decide .

Later in the years we moved from that home , every home we lived in had a story 
or a presence of its own . My Mother had told me later , a young man took his life there .

 Keep fighting your way through life and its despair , 
you are important to someone whom cares .  If you feel alone and want life to end , Please pick up the phone , call anyone ,  call for help , call a Friend .

"This is not fiction , it truly is a gift I have been given "


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