Best Sad Death Poems
When the earth crumbles
Into something foreign and
Suffocates me—dead
Like a spider in the water,
I realise what has been bothering me all along:
It is my own mortality
A distant song
A bad fatality
A cool, unopened telephone
A modern dial
What’s the use in trying
To make life what it will never be
A pleasure is not what life is about
Because around you people are dying
And there’s no time for crying
So what is there to do
When the earth crumbles
Into something foreign and
Suffocates me so that I’m foreign, too
And everyone around me is foreign—dead
—Alive—wishing to be dead—wishing to be alive-
Wanting to give
What we don’t have to give,
Like a man inclined to drink himself to death
On an evening like every other evening
On a night like every other night -
I take the shining bullet
That my father left behind
Because what use is there to live
In an alien world where everyone is alien to everyone
And wishing to break free, not to be alien
Not to be sinners but to regain redemption
We’re all so sorry for what we have done
When the earth crumbles
Into something foreign
And suffocates me again so that I am dead
And the bullet that has often shined doesn’t seem to shine so much any more,
I will escape all that is alien by shooting myself in the brain
And hope that death is not alien
When I have always suspected that death is the same
Is death such a bad thing?
Its the end of all the pain and suffering,
If you could see the end of all your tears,
Death is not so bad, But I cant think clear.
Is death such a bad thing?
It would stop all the pain of a broken heart,
It would be an end of all the bad things,
Of not knowing what to do, or where to start.
Is death such a bad thing?
I'm not quite sure,
I think I would just stop breathing,
For all my sadness to end death is a cure.
Is death such a bad thing?
When it keeps your best friend,
When all they had left,
Was endless suffering.
Is death such a bad thing?
Where loneliness would be at bay,
Death is not so bad you see,
It took all the bad things away.
Sad Death Of Her Lost, Tormented Lover
As I walked out into bitter cold rain
Skies rush down to send even more hard pain,
No worry, torment was long, long overdue
For my extreme folly abandoning you.
Castle now has no water and no bread
My heart weeps and wishes first to be dead;
So missed, warmth of your soft gentle touch
Nothing else does this wretch miss as much,
As you look down, pray a new song for me,
Chase away dark blues, setting this soul free;
For once, this earth's deepest true love was ours
Long before I yielded to lustful fires.
My darling, I have now reached icy river bank
Dive in to be free, giving you my thanks.
Robert J. Lindley,
Original verse, March 12th 1986
Heavily rewritten today, June 9-2017
Old Death is a scar,
an empty eye socket, a lost limb.
It has been grieved and we leave it alone
most of the time except on long drives
or sleepless nights.
New Death is a police siren behind you,
a baby crying for you in the night
in a house on fire.
New Death is bright red.
Old Death is brown.
We can pick it up and put it down.
New Death picks us up and
puts us down when it wants to.
New Death is a mugger in an alley
on your way home.
Leather jacket, whiskey breath,
fear smell, switch blade at your throat.
That's New Death.
It mugs you and steals your life
for years or forever.
Old Death is a tight uniform you wore,
you try it on once in a while.
You were drafted in the Regiment of Pain.
It doesn't fit, you don't wear it
but you will never be the same again.
You have your memories at that private war with Death.
You are a veteran now.
But the Private Pain mellows into General Acceptance
and the poignancy turns to peace
and all New Death will lose it's sting
with time and God's help forever.
Pain, excruciating pain
Gripping spine, disabling
Till vigor and strength drain
Prayers you chant and Hymns sing
Hospital, Doctors, MRI’s and X-rays
Cash, Debit Cards, depleting bank account
Money vanishes, but pain stays
Nothing could misery surmount
Calves stiff, nerves sore
Walking with stick, still in pain
Whoever said, whoever swore
“Pleasure and pain are links of a chain”
Sad poems, heart-wrenching news
Failed love, desertions, betrayals
Pain intrudes with or without excuse
No distinction in paupers and royals
Pain is the destiny of man
It is a heartache or pain in spine
Man's birth is through pain and death from pain
Gripping like fog the life's sunshine
You wish and pray it goes
It cures, soothes nor heals
With time it grows and grows
Till death your life steals
The old man and his grandson viewed
A barren bladeless ground.
When to his left the young lad's eye
Saw bleached bones scattered 'round.
'Twas more than one beast's bones that lay
There exposed to the sun.
It seemed more like a battlefield
Where only death had won.
The old man saw the young lad wince,
He reined in close behind.
As memories of what took place
Came flooding through his mind.
A century turned, but not his luck,
For rains had failed again.
He slowly watched the dams dry up
While cattle died in pain.
A little water still remained
Though sought by feral stock.
Some brumbies which came down at dawn
Still often used the block.
In good times no one cared that much,
But not so any more.
The young lad's dad and this old man
Both knew what lay in store.
A high log fence closed off the dam,
The timber they had sawn.
Suspended gate it lay in wait
For piccaninny dawn.
Then as the last mare ambled through
Wood gate it dropped like lead.
A wood rail race seemed their escape,
But death lurked there instead. Their capital had all dried up,
No cash for lead and gun.
To execute the feral stock
Took knife and old man's son.
With legs astride the wood rail race
Son grimaced as he drew
That blade of death 'cross jug'lar vein,
Then slapped the victim through.
Each fleet foot spirit faltered there
A hundred yards away,
While blazing eyes showed fear of death,
Mouths gave a weakened neigh.
Then one by one their weak frames fell
Onto the dusty ground.
The racing hearts of those poor beasts
Then gave their final pound.
The slaughter did not save the stock
For all the dams went dry.
It fin'ly broke the old man's son,
He watched the grown man cry.
All this the old man told the lad,
The picture was now drawn.
On why his dad then took his life
One piccaninny dawn.
The young lad then took from his head
his father's sweat stained hat
And as he wiped the tears away
He said, Gramps thanks for that."
I'd always had my doubts you see
About the way Dad died,
But now I know the truth at last
I'll wear this hat with pride.
A lonely forlorn figure stands, shoulders slumped, life's energy sapped. A Face much older than the years, looks up at the arrival board, delayed not coming, lost walks in a daze, a mind crash too! Called to a meeting they all file in, media in a frenzy.
A zillion cameras flash, she hears the words the flight is missing, thinks of the pain when he was born, and the joy as she first held him to her breast. A room full of love, he grew so quick from infant to toddler, and high school student. She watched over him as only a mother can do. It was only a holiday trip, his dream.
Now the lites of the cameras flash, experts talk of this and that, transponders turned off, plane way off course. She holds the feeling with in, stands with hand in air, every one looks at her silent dignified despair. The Prime Minister says, "Yes, Mam!" The room so silent now, a voice only a child could know filled the room every one taken a back. "Please Sir, do you best, remember me today he is only nineteen and all that I have not a passenger or member of the crew, and for all mothers I speak, not passengers or crew but some one loved, just like your mother loves you!"
With that she turned as a zillion camera lights flashed, as she slowly made her way from the room, no answer expected in her heart she knew, never to see the smile squeal of toddler delight all that makes a mothers life.
Aircraft missing, transponders turned off, media circus now in flight, questions to her from left and right, tight lipped she remained, walks slowly on, thinks five or ten years from now, yesterday's headlines forgotten and gone, but in her mind only nineteen and gone...
shroud of haze engulfs
the earth as the news of thy death arrives,
And the slums of Calcutta,
from where you lifted the forsaken for care,
look dispossessed.
In thy death the world has
lost an apostle of compassion
who transcended the barriers of
caste and creed in disseminating love
A universal mother thou art,
whose healing touch mattered
much more than even Medicare,
for medicine heals the wounds of body,
but who shall heal the wounds of heart and soul
without thee, O Mother?
While at the kingdom of Heaven a choir of angels
eagerly awaits the return of the humble daughter.
The humans, still aghast and bereaved,
weep over the irrevocable loss.
On the hill, a mother
is desperate to nurse babies
who have gone still and silent,
with milk they'll never take
She knows they are not sleeping
but cannot bear to leave them,
so licks their tiny faces,
that they might come awake
She thinks if she can warm them,
then Winter will not want them
and Spring will find them happy
and hale, and furred, and free
As sorrow overwhelms her,
she curls herself around them,
soon dreaming in the way of
all creatures such as she
of fish in rippling water,
of game and earth. Of watching
her mate at play in powder,
unmindful of the chill
And when the Winter claims her,
she's chasing stars with children,
reborn among the flowers
that bloom upon the hill
Thy young maiden,
Peck her Lily flower a shake.
A brittle sound of break,
Sobbing till tears make.
Bare feet on wet grass.
Alas, her life, soon ‘twill pass.
RHYTHM OF LIFE
Good day to all the head in casket,
Goodnight to the soul in silent,
Hi,to my sometime to come friend.
How I wish, we all can change our fate,
But death will have no meaning
But a sticky spade shade.
Life, what a race,
By sight we face,
By height we attain,
By age I different stage,
Creating a leverage that we may not attain
Before we are aged,
Ending up our vision,
Our mission in the ground cage.
Nobody ever love to stop by,
We all love to live forever,
But death will never,
Limited time is we the beholder.
What do we call destiny and our fate?
We all are in the world of common fate.
One day,the writer and the reader,
The beauty and the ugly,
The leader and the follower,
The right and wrong,
The poor and the rich,
The good and the bad,
The cheap and the best,
The gate man and the boss,
The peddlers and the buyers,
All will visit the yard for the cool headed,
And never come back to share our experience.
Life is our definition,
Death is every ones meaning.
Let us all dance, but dance for a while,
The ground can’t wait,
We are only living by chance,
One day our time will expire.
Life and death,
Beginning and end.
Please tell the Mr. and Mrs. position,
Mr. and Mrs. power,
Mr. and Mrs. decision,
Mr. and Mrs. intention
That nobody will live and will not leave,
That he or she will no longer be referred to as IS,
But by the word WAS.
As we rest a man in peace,
We also will be rest in peace,
Sometimes by those we think we will rest in peace.
Nobody is too young and small to live,
Nobody is too small and too old to die.
Death, the only prize for our deal,
Life a race, death the fate.
We met when I was just thirteen.
You found me there—
Alone in the cold, numbing blizzard
They clung to each other for warmth
But you found me there—
Trembling and weak from the cold,
And you clung to me.
Your advances unsettled me at first.
Why should I let you in?
You laced your fingers gently through mine—
Let me show you.
Vivid fantasies—
Time stops,
And it’s only us.
Endless possibilities—
What do you want to do first?
You held me close,
Showered me in your endless embrace.
But when you couldn’t be there,
You left me
Tokens of your love—
Bouquets of blooming red roses,
All bleeding with the thought of you.
Vivid reality—
Time stops,
But so swiftly your love turns cold,
Colder than the blizzard you found me in.
You seized my heart in your coarse hands—
And now you’re mine.
You don’t see me
You don’t believe it exists
That thing that is killing my brain
Little by little
Everyday, a little more
Until it’s all gone
Until I’m gone
And then what
Regrets of wasted time and lonely nights
Of romantic moons and sunrises
We never saw, we never lived
Because we were too busy living out the monotony of life
As if we’d live forever
As if we’d never be touched
By death
You don’t see me
Because you don’t want to
Stop and ask how I’ve been
That would make it too real
You wouldn’t know what to say
So you’d walk away
You’re too uncomfortable
That it exists
So we’ll just pretend it doesn’t
At least for a little while
You don’t see me
You need to help me
Where will I go?
What will I do?
It started slipping away long ago
And now I have nothing
And you continue to let me have nothing
No questions, no talk, nothing
Only accusations of all the wrong I do
Because you don't want to see me
Why must I make you feel comfortable with my dying?
Good night, old friend.
Hush and sleep.
I’m here as long as we can pretend.
Even after you leave.
If pain is a gateway to the soul,
then my dreams deem your words the key to such a portal
I just can’t tear my eyes away
your blunt nails puncturing skin, their purpose ugly lines
If I could I would rasp a scripted farewell
envelop the spirits you trapped here frame to frame
but the jeers swimming in your Cheshire smile bleed a crimson too real
maybe I should rejoice, this house now a home – not a belladonna field.
But it never will be unlike a cage
twenty years, two decades, one fear, no apology
a few tears won’t erase the scars on her arms
you the forefront, I the ignorant, and she the child in Omelas
I’m terrified I’m grieving a vile sadist
the people surrounding me either love or hate, curse or forgive,
they don’t understand what it’s like
to miss someone so soul-crushingly cruel.
I do not fear death.
I will be brave to the end.
Hell doesn't want me
for I tell know lies.
I've seen the grim reaper,
the shadow of death.
He's nothing but an
imaginary creature
that I don't dread.
There are many ways
of death that I will not
mention.
Your the only one that
knows your fate of redemption.
They'll be sadness throughout
the nation.
If a war of the worlds unfolds.
The devil walks amongst us.
He strifes for our crime.
So make amends for your sins.
When I die
I don't want
anyone to cry.
I will face death and judgement
without panic.
Then I'll cross
the golden gates to heaven.