Best Imaginationdeath Poems
A cold crypt lay stone figured in the earth, as if it were the old man's reward.
Dark and bewildered the eyes of the beast, rested six feet on tranquil depths.
Shallow and without remorse, engulfed by the undertakers grit.
What death awaits under the devil's window sill.
Monotonous the cheer, hurray!!! hurray!!!!, an audienca, dethroned was the king, his
assassination by critic, no prize for his next of kin
No sorrow, only tears of a dream failed by others,
Who are we not to call his work art...left with an evil grin and the scent of gasoline
spread, burn was his words,as he fell silent in the flames
As the curtains rolled, applause lauded out, a true genius, a master of a play.
As it was in name death of a play-write,
and the end of his script
The angel of death watches over me;
Presiding, a faceless black valkyrie
With eyes of varnished jet
And the soul of a chastened murderer
He loves me, he wants me - he yearns…
He dreams of the day when I will come home
Into his eternal embrace,
Into his realm of fire and snow
I wonder if he would make me his queen,
I wonder if my crown would be of thorns
Or bleeding roses?
I do long for him sometimes,
In the night, in the dark, when my blood is cold
And the loneliness is a vicious ache,
Deep down in the pit of my heart
Then I sigh out the name of Death,
My hand clasped to my breast,
And each breath grating through my lips
We were made for each other, death and I
We are two withered peas,
Locked in a shrivelled pod –
We are the anti-Christ, the anti-life,
We are the scorch of hell fire on flesh
And the taste of arsenic on your tongue
Oh I may be mortal now, vulnerable as a fawn,
But my sands are ebbing, time is running out
And soon I will fly to meet him, dear Death,
On his skeleton horse in a suit of charred armour
My knight, my night…
My black night
I have become accustomed to the dark,
It soothes me,
A vampire it has made of me, shunning the light
Cringing from sunshine, hiding my eyes
I want to bury my face in the nape of death,
In his swirling ebony hair,
And be cocooned in its smothering gloom
Oh love –
What dire straits you have landed in…
What great peril, what curse lies,
Heaped upon your innocent lamb’s skull
You were born under an unlucky star,
Poor unsuspecting slaughter-house soul,
And here am I to fulfil the bleak prophecy –
To lead you astray into the labyrinth,
Into the inescapable maze of destruction
And bleak skeletal death
I, the ill star of the ill starred
The accursed curser of the cursed
The damned witch, who metes out damnation
With a flick of her bony finger,
A black flame burning in her hollow eyes –
That is I, she is me,
And here I am…
Your lover, your keeper, your executioner tonight
With a cloak of deception mantling me, I embrace you
My skin blanketing yours in ivory damask
My sapphire eyes bewitch and beguile…
I am at once a dewy rose –
And the hissing serpent beneath it,
I am the black widow in mourning garb,
With a gentle smile of regret as I slit your throat
My tender ministrations leave you breathless –
For eternity,
A cold corpse of chilled marble,
With the blood maroon and hard inside your veins
And at first dawn’s light I flee - and leave you dead…
And yet, despite the murder,
Despite the ruthless annihilation as I snuff out your soul
And harvest the memories within its tenuous vessel,
Yet still I do declare –
I love you dearest
I love you and long for you,
With every ounce of my hollow heart
And in the back of my mind, always, lingers a golden thought;
That if the devil didn’t dominate me so,
And if death were not my vile vocation,
I would scoop you into my adoring alabaster arms
And bear you far away, to Elysium and beyond,
Where promise rings sit on rosebuds
And the rivers are of sweet white wine –
And we could be together forever, you and I,
The cursed couple, the luckless lovers…
The witch and her familiar
A view from the cause,
alters the landscape in you
I surrender to the earth,
the roots. Purifying the leaves.
I tell myself, this was not me,
my music. Still my skin
has the tattoos of pandemic deafness.
I am breathing through the lips.
My attachment to death
is a private affair
my voice lies in a lake.
The butterfly in a womb.
the psalms under the rocks.
Is it ending of death
or death of ending?
I go beyond the brink,
drop the stone in water.
When the moon touches
my eyes, like a kiss
I start sharing the menu of night.
The rimless thoughts are hovering
like small birds. I listen
to their flappings.
Can we live without bargaining?
Do you know the price?
SATISH VERMA
Blood was drawn from a man I love
Blood I spilled with my gunning hands
Be for love… I chose to serve
Yet of death… I am not to find my man
I remember his name…
For it became a name… death couldn’t spell
Had he but a life he chose to remain
I wouldn’t have to kill my beloved Joel
Heavens sees my cemetery before me
He who commands the Blood Raven
Yet the ravens flew further away I see
Where be my love, where is my Heaven?
‘Life is shorten by death
Death is lengthen for life’
The last of his words before he left
The last of him… love isn’t to revive
My immortality as a befallen
Have I not serve yet to deserve?
Overseeing death as a Blood Raven
Will I ever find my belove?
……………
written for the contest 'Among The Dead'
Death latch’s by my side,
Like a hollow goddess.
Rendering my speech,
Speechless.
Death caresses my hearts wounds,
Undoing the dusk chains,
And intertwining it, in jade thorns.
She, death moves in closer,
And move I do to.
Only to stare each other in the eye.
She being death sees my joy,
I being her love see her pain.
Mysteries were born and solved in that moment.
For I never knew deaths tarred lip,
Could taste so sweet.