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Death Sonnet Poems | Sonnet Poems About Death

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

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Details | Sonnet |

A Gentle Death

Avenge me not, for death has been a friend
and anger ill befits love's gentle wine.
All lovers true or not, must part, ascend:
rise, or fall, as life's trials their paths assign.

Still as bone, white as winter's snow my skin
by candle light, one can almost see inside.
My hair a gossamer halo, so thin, 
my eyes, my blue eyes, still contain the tide.

I am your fair Persephone, your wife, bride,
and soon I will return to you Hades
to rise born on cherry blossom tides;
when in the earth, I can no longer bide.

Bless gentle Thanatos for his death sublime
and Hypnos, as in sleep, I do recline.



Details | Sonnet |

The Rose and the Thorn

I shall nay know all the wonders - you hold
For all too soon the winds of winter blow
Scarlet petals withering in the snow
How cruel the breath that kills the velvet rose 

Tears - that canst’ bear the thought of letting go
Forever frozen in this empty soul
A broken heart forever turned to stone
A broken stem left now to stand alone

Alas! I find that life is bitter-sweet
As I stand holding only memories
Of a rose blooming in the summer breeze
Here beneath this old weeping willow tree

Once I held the sweetest rose - ever born
Now – in my grief – I hold the bitter thorn.

                            ~~~

                    Author:  Elaine George


Details | Sonnet |

The Memoir

Here in the final pages of her life			
She stops to rest a spell on empty lines		
Reflecting on the chapters left behind		
In valleys of a mind deep in contrite		
Where shadows battle with a blinding light		
Conflicting egos fighting on through time		
Their argument life’s reason and life’s rhyme	
They battle for the end that she must write	  	
Two equal pens held tightly in her hand		
Tears mingle with the ink spots on the page			
One pen telling truth one pen telling lies		
Her bleeding words like footprints in the sand		
On lines between a novice and a sage					
One pen she puts to death before she dies

                     ~~~
	
Author:  Elaine George
Written: April 20th, 2014
For Miltonic Sonnet Contest sponsored by: Craig Cornish	

Awarded:  First Place


Details | Sonnet |

The Waiting Sleep

I wait while wandering in empty dreams,
where everyone is lost and dying slow.
And in the distance are, unheard, the screams
of anguished souls I’ll never come to know.

The winds blow hot or cold here, rarely cool.
Leaves flutter out of sight, disintegrate.
Relief, if ever found, is minuscule.
I do not even know for what I wait!

I’m drifting with the leaves as they change hue,
concealed among them as they fall to ground.
And as they crumble, I’ll be crumbling too,
alone (as souls unknown hear not my sound).

And still I roam inside this wait I keep,
unwilling to awaken from this sleep.


Details | Sonnet |

The Missing

She looks around the room with worried eyes. So many things are missing. What became of all her pretty clothes? With great surprise she notices her dresser’s not the same. The fancy music box that held her pearls is missing too from where it used to sit beside the picture of her precious girls there on the dresser. What became of it? She hears her husband walking toward the room and cries out as she sees him on the stair. He lies down on their bed. She feels his gloom, and then she knows. . . . He cannot see her there! She lingers, helpless, knowing she must go, yet hears him sob, “My love, I miss you so.” Written for Susan Burch's "Missing" Poetry Contest


Details | Sonnet |

Written in a Graveyard

O God, to see let go and not atone,
  And not forestall that misery disguised:
This misfortune is mine and mine alone,
  And to that end I have philosophised!
Not to the wider picture tomorrow,
  But to the Sword of Damocles on high:
To love's memory from which we borrow
  And to know what it means to live and die!
Live and let be - for the end usurps all
  But expunges not the considered heart:
There is no wider picture - just a pall
  Of residual sadness for my part.
I am not best reasoned to reason why
That in death there are lessons to live by.



July 1989


Details | Sonnet |

Death of a Flower

Down on row and pit and mortal flower
  The undertaker's men stood grave and bier:
And brave stoic death fills the living hour
  For ever more a day, a week, a year...
Where bathed in shafts of exalted light toll
  The bells of Mass and vigil in Greenhithe:
When in bound clay an unmolested dole
  Grimly hung the shadows in hood and scythe:
Yet I upon this ploughed earth sullen gaze
  And wonder what cold disconnect is death!
What sting its prick to a full end of days
  That dares to breathe on me its cankered breath.
Withered is the bud and brief flower shed,
Yet for a time its beauty shone outspread.

                   

July 1995


Details | Sonnet |

Choices, Voices and Bad Company

Choices, Voices and Bad Company

Bang , bang , gunshots in heated night air sang 
jump back , be careful where you nightly hang
Fun, fun , going where the night action stays
danger waits hidden when nights replace days!

Kick it, kick it, time to chase the gals
beware safety gone if you hang with pals
So carry a shooter , step up your game
name in the paper soon may be your fame!

Hold on, hold on, your future life has game
you grab future rejecting drugs so lame
Stand up , a man that carries his own weight
yield not to greed, lust and all useless hate!

Live on, living to find your star and shine
Live on, love in life ,  love so very fine!

Robert J. Lindley  08-24-2014

Note: A sonnet that presents today's life choices are 
often far more serious when made than young
people can realise. Seeking action and thrills 
always come with a cost. Quite often a deadly cost!
Don't freely decide to get yourself so lost!
Been there, down that, long ago..


Details | Sonnet |

Death Blows a Hollow Horn

On pale horse a pale rider in the sun,
  Who makes his own our last valiant breath;
And on your grave sing the owl and raven
  In the shadows of the valley of death!
Where no graven image rise from its bones,
  Only a cold wormwood wind on death row
That pipes through the rushes and the tombstones,
  Where all that remains is what lies below.
But more, far more than this, your time to me!
  To that bosom of child, mother, and sire:
Carried away by a higher glory
  On flaming wheels - in chariots of fire.
Not hearts, not tongues bespoken go unsworn
When Death comes to blow his wreathed hollow horn.



July 1995


Details | Sonnet |

Transcendent Love

Will you be loving me ‘til time is naught?
Your fingers only know of suppleness,
will they not flinch to touch skin wrinkle-fraught?
My beauty withers, cup reached emptiness…

Your love has set my heart aglow, renewed
‘tis ev’rytime your words lave over me...
Like soothing rain on desert sand subdued,
I soak it in, drunk for eternity

Do forgive me, for ever doubting you,
this pain has ravaged me, yet you’re still here.
‘Tis I you love, this I now know so true,
please stay with me, for death creeps in so near

Let saccharine lips meet for one last time
The windows close now, yet leave love sublime




00612162011


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