Best Deathnight Poems
I am running fast,
A storm is rolling in,
Im running,
breathe,
my chest is heaving,
I dropped a tear,
on accident I swear,
I tried to wipe it quickly away,
But it was too late,
They'd seen,
Found weekness in my heart,
And so they came for me,
I stopped running,
Turned to face those demons,
I slaughtered them all,
and the looks on thier face I knew they could now tell,
the tear I dropped was for them,
for sending them to hell,
that night I walked throught the storm,
no longer afraid,
I wore the blood of the demons I'd just slayed,
and I'd never felt more proud,
coated with my accomplishment for the night , I smiled.
Form:
I am sorry for not being there on the night of your show
The biggest night of one’s true life
I am sorry I missed that big game
The one you say you were there to play
That night I’m sorry when I wasn’t there to go on tour
The tour of your life
I am sorry I missed the biggest day
Of that same day you married him
But all this I say sorry for
I really watched up by heaven’s door
So when I say I’m sorry
I really mean
I am sorry for not saying anything when I was dying
Form:
That night I had slept peacefully,
no repeating of the nightmare of a few nights before.
In my dream I had heard a voice.
The voice was loud and clear.
“Clifford Olson is dead.”
There was no repetition, no explanation,
only my son’s name and the stark pronouncement.
I fought out of the terror, to wakefulness.
The realization that I had been dreaming
slowed my racing heart but
did not dim the horror.
Throughout that day and a few days to follow,
the voice followed, repeating the phrase,
over and over.
I had spoken to my son.
He was fine.
The voice still rang in my ears.
That night I had slept peacefully.
Then a voice again.
This time it was soft, sweet and sorrowful,
my daughter’s voice.
“Mama, Mama wake up.”
By: Joyce Johnson Won first place
For Constance~ A Rambling Poet contest, "Create Your Own Form, Maybe?
Consume with rage my soul is trap in this cage.
I can see the light but there's no escaping from this maze.
Walking through the valley of darkness not shedding a tear.
Yet all I see is fear but I refuse to shed a tear.
Staring death in his face cause I will not die.
I'm an American and as American I'm curse with pride.
Standing tall but eternally bleeding from the inside.
each night I wonder why I can't cry why I won't die.
I realize that the reality is that I'm not alive.
Because I'm stuck in the netherworld trying hard to survive.
Soul split in two right now my words is my only drive.
Stuck between worlds why can't I say good-bye.
Each night I'm screaming asking for help but there's no reply.
As my bodies start to decay my soul is slipping away.
Tasting blood my future is gray I'm evil prey.
Dion A Bess
aka
Poet
Karen Croft Among the Dead
Every night she walks into darkness
The amethyst mist swoons her darkened figure
As she glides between the grave stones
the ravens cower over her in pleasure
Keeping watch over her husband
She is among the dead now
The life sucked out of her
To the grounds of the cemetery she remains
Forever trapped in her own dismay
Her once white wedding gown turned from the drowning of her tears
Raven, herself already dead inside
Her soul lost
Her heart stopped beating the night she shot her husband and watched his lifeless
body fall to the floor
She walks in gloom
The cemetery her safe haven
It reserves a place for her
For every where she glances her name is etched in stone
Every night i dream of fire
and death.
I stand over you as I watch you bleed I watch as
The pain fills your eyes and
You reach out to touch me but
I kick your hand away like a
dirty rag.
Your hand falls sadly and the flames
swallow you whole
I stand and watch as tears begin
To form but not full of sadness but full
of rage.
This is what you get I think to my self
You reap what you sow.
I can still see your face as the flames
eat you alive
The heat surrounds me and death
comes soon after.
The flames dance all night until the sun
breaks its light.
But I stand in front of
the raging fire
My heart filled with no emotion
You were suppose to be special I said to my self
But I let you go so easily.
I wipe my tears away
But my rage builds till my chest
starts to hurt.
I look around at what was once my
Life and then I say its time to take
my leave I look once more as your body burns to ash
Then I turn from the flames and start to slowly walk away.
Then I start to disappear with every step I take
Then I realize when that person died
my soul left with them.
I heard an angel speak last night he said
"I am here to represent the joy that is ahead"
Standing in the entrance an angel made of stone
with wings spread as to take flight
and carry Gods chosen ones home
Walking along the Garden of souls
I ponder in my heart
the reunion that will take place
in heaven to never depart
I saw so many angels
all carved of stone
standing guard inside the gates
until He calls us home
I came across a reverant angel
down upon his knees
at the foot of Jesus cross
who died to set men free
I knelt down to at the feet of Jesus
as the tears ran down my face
I felt His presence ever near
as I thanked Him for His Saving grace
I walked on through the garden
as joy had flooded my way
all the sorrow I had felt
It began to melt
and my night had turned to day
The things I had forgotten
life doesn't end at the grave
it just begins as we enter in
the beautiful heavenly gates.
Everthing was going great
Life was better so it seems
It was so real I Know I was there
in my heart, and in a dream..
Treasa Jarvis
6/17/2011
Angels in Cemeteries
She crys in pain,
From all the shame.
She lays on the ground being tortured, humiliated, and torn from the inside out.
She has so many bruises, everyone can see.
She has to pretend to not see this clearly.
Her blood bleeds from her wounded heart, but she can not feel.
Something everyone talks about, love, it will heal,
Can’t anyone help and look at her,
Just take away her misery.
She cries every night in agony and pain.
"Don’ walk away, tonight, please, have mercy, just stay."
You didn’t stay, and that night was cold.
She got beat to death, and walked down the stormy road.
She found so much terror in that mans eyes as she started to fade.
She walked alone, on her way to heavens gates.
shes stuck in a basement
she cries for help
she yells STOP!
but no one hears her
she wishes she was dead and never born
she wishes she did not have to put up with the abuse
she loves her parnets but why do they hate her and hurt her
the only friend she ever had is a worn out ripped teddy bear
but she knows one night the night in hell she well never see the next day
she is only 9 years old and thinks she to fat a usless little pest that is no use to live
her mom walks in the basement drunk and high yells and screams you worthless
little pest she grabs the a knife from the kitchen walks back in the basement a stabs
her 4 times in the heart the little girl yells but no one hears she slowly dieing
the next day the police find her with her friend in her arms
As the darkness begins to fall
I can hear the whispering call of the wind.
Calling out my name again and again.
Maybe it is just messing with my brain.
But as it grows darker the wind begins to howl.
As though it is now screaming out my name.
Every night seems to be the same.
What is it that makes the night cry out my name?
Is this someones idea of a game?
Perhaps it is something more, Does death call out in the night?
Leaving you to look for one last light?
She wakes every night
Around the same time
Shivering and sweating
As 3am chimes
This nightmare she carries
Fills her with fear
As every night draws
Her death she feels near
At eighteen years old
With her whole life ahead
What attracts these dreams
As she sleeps in her bed
The nightmares increase
As the weeks pass by
To a party she's invited
As she gives life a try
Her previous nightmares
Seem a distant past
As she dances the night away
Praying that this is the last
She indicates it's late
To home she must head
In the back of her mind
Is the dreams that she dreads
She takes a shortcut
Only to hear footsteps behind
Before she knows it
There are two by her side
Taunting in ridicule
Down a dark alley they lure
Screaming and scratching
This daughter so pure
To a darkened room
With this evil of two
To her naked flesh
As they do as they do
Her eyes start to close
And the last thing she sees
Through a small basement window
A clock face strikes three
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/dark-3.php
I had a rendezvous with death.
He came up to my bed post one night and said
“Its time to cross over to the other side”
I shivered and cried and pleaded not now!
“It’s too soon, to you I will not bow!”
His cold hand came upon my chest
To squeeze out the life from my breath
Drops of sweat ran down my head,
I fought, I yelled and hell I was scared
“Cuckoo Cuckoo” what is that I hear?
I force my eyes open “Its six o’clock dear!”
I smile at the pretty face of my wife
Oh what a night of tussle and strife!