Lover Death Poems | Examples

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


Beside the river where dogs bathe

inevitably, she comes for us all
my lover— death, with her webbed fingers

her skin soft as a porcupine’s, 
her quills darting into my chest
tears me apart in search of her craving
a smile as she gently ripped it out of my flesh

she held it out to the heavens and breathed out a cry of death
her teeth harder than diamonds, and her tongue sharper than a double edged sword
she looked at it— my heart,
aching for its taste, aching for its love

her eyes, equivalent to a million stars dying, 
looked at my lips with desperation and yearning
so i pressed mine against hers just to get a taste of heroin
ecstatically fatal for even among the gods

her mouth opened and speaks with the proclamation of my demise
my love for her stronger but my body weaker,
falling— she caught me with her arms hotter than deserts
but gently lays me down against the snow covered ground

her embrace burning my flesh,
beside the river where dogs bathe,
a smile appears on my lips,
a taste for my last breath
Categories: art, beauty, death, deep,


November 8 and Eclipse

my elegy-
my muse covered in death
my wistful cry for help
innocence in her eyes
her last words and hug with a embracing smile

promises made and promises fade
8th of november, when moon turned red
the curse would lift but my roses turned black
the great eclipse returned and claimed another laugh
death of me inside
my lover absquatulated me by that time

lost two souls
on and by-
november 8 and another goodbye
two different years but same eclipse
cursed my sky, stole its shine
Categories: death, friendship, miss you,

Premium MemberSorry

The way you had to be 
It was the way I had to kneeel down,
the waves that we sorted out 
came back to us.
The turning point could have 
been our way to choose.
We didn't take the right one,
only we worsen our life to destruction.
The way you were,  made me feel miserable,
The way you were, made me feel doubtful.
The way you were, made me walk on a tightrope.
The way you were made feel a queen at the same time.
You had all those things to make me be confused.
I wouldn't spend a second to write, but I know you were the one.
Now, you are not here anymore, but I miss the way you were.
I miss how difficult you were,
how distant and cold sometimes you showed.
I know you had a hurt heart
which I could not heal.
Now, that you've become only 
a whisper to my ears, 
a dream to my nights, 
a daily reminder. I want to tell you one thing. I forgive you and I've just hope you can forgive me too.
You weren't a bad person, or me, just circunstances
made us to take different routes.
Now, you are death, it' s nothing that I can say, just sorry if I could not understand the way you used be.
Sorry, my heart beets on, because only me knows the way you were.
Categories: death, blessing, creation, deep, devotion,

That Blighted Rose

So plant it on that petrichoric soil in rows 
As you bring at my funeral that pure ruby rose

And so? If I'm unable to perceive it's essence 
Don't shatter either penalize it in a burst of incense 

Then nourish it with spring warm water to lush 
And let it expand on more roses to reserve for Mush

Thus let a lover pluck a part of them for his muse
So that I would cherish it's use and you can be excused 

So allow it to make my cemetery more graceful in the graveyard 
Indeed, my love , pick your favourite and have it in your yard

Let it bloom and thrive in the sight of your field 
So that , I can be there for your eyes to be healed 

And if you ever feel dull to look at them in the autumn 
Rest your heart, dig them up and burry them in the bottom
PS: Palwasha Sharif
Categories: death, 12th grade, 6th grade,

No life, No death

Oh death
The fear of countless souls 
I adore your kiss
I need you close
When will we meet?
When shall you come?

It's too long a wait
Please come tonight 
I don't know you
I know life is a tsunami
Perhaps you can rescue me
Where shall we meet?

Oh life
The lover of the lifeless 
I've honored your presence 
I gave you my all
Why you misled me, lover?
Why toss me into lava?

It's too long a wait 
Get out of my sight
It's as if I know you
I heard that death is a fortune
You ruthlessly fried my liver
No time for reversal

Better the joy from dying
Worse the misery from living 
Free my feet from tight shoes
My toes from hammering heat
I can hear the darkness sing
Better the joy! Worse the misery!

Oh life and death
You're all my friends
Like the sheep sharing a shepherd
Fighting firmly on the loose land —
Dear earth, why you betrayed me?
Dear hell, how will you come?

With a billion eyes, I've tasted
The two colors yearning for balance
The lovely world into balance
I need no life
I need no death
I need a midpoint!
Categories: death, confusion, grief, hyperbole, imagery,


Premium MemberThe Wicket Keeper

**The Wicket-Keeper**


Today, I learned that a lover I once cherished has passed away. Just yesterday, he was alive, and I never imagined I would feel this way about him. It’s strange how I rarely think about the rain unless it floods my drains, my driveway, or my beloved rose garden, or dampens my happy mood. Yet, here I am, grappling with a deep sadness over his death.

The tender moments we shared will always be etched in my memory, even amidst the ups and downs that relationships bring. Our past was filled with challenges, perhaps I was mistaken, or maybe he was right. But tonight, I find myself reflecting on the love we had. He was my old lover, the wicketkeeper, someone I held dear in my heart, now a distant memory that I will always carry with me.
Categories: death, allegory, angst, break up,

Unboxing Apocalypse - Part 2, We Will Make Love Roasting

(Elai:)

Then let the flame be the altar.
Let our skin crackle like old vinyl records,
looping the moan that ended time.

Let the kiss taste of ember—
the tongue, a brand;
the breath, smoke that carries
our names to where gods go to weep.

And when our bodies fuse
between passion and combustion,
I won’t beg to live.
I’ll beg to die with you.

So roast me gently,
my pyromaniac lover—
and in your fire,
I'll open like scripture,
page by page,
until there's nothing left
but holy ash.

Now light the match.
Categories: death,

Plagued by Memories

This, is where it began
A scream
   Blood curdling
     An amalgamation of acid and iron
       Coagulates my blood
Mother
   Instinct seizes
     Heart racing
       Legs race faster
Thoughts race out of hand
   A gun to her head?
     No time for weapons
       Fists will do
Around the corner
   My eyes catch glimpse
     five golden corners
        two solemn eyes
Mother
   One word resounds
      From shrieking lips
        No
Over and over
   Over
     And
       Over
That word
   His badge
    Her sobs
      His gaze
Say one shrilling word
    Her lover
      My father
        My father
Gone
Categories: dad, death, grief, memory,

Envisage

How would you like to envisage this transience,
now, that you have ascended this mortal realm;
Thousands of references under your options
now choose, with your gifted conscience.

How about the reference of an orphan
sheltered under the rich's shade,
wandering in the streets of merry families,
disappering as the nights fade?

Maybe the angle of a just born lover,
waiting patiently by her forever's bed,
as he holds her hand, whispering promises,
and slowly chasing his last breath?

And how about a trusted devotee of the deity,
a mother who just got sent
in response to her prayers, an apology letter,
from her beloved son's regiment?

Or maybe the man bearing the joy of his life,
on his shoulder so petite and trivial,
an anonymous griever, as they called him,
being the pallbearer of his best friend's casket? 

So how would you like to envisage this transience,
now, that you have ascended this mortal realm;
How would you like to improvise these incidents
Written under destiny's poetic license?
Categories: death, allegory, analogy, care, destiny,

Premium MemberWHOSE WILL BE DONE?



Between the blades of dewy grass
Mingle the particles of fresh dust
Their colour bleached to grey.


A bird descends and pecks for food,
Finding nothing it ascends today
Climbs higher than the trees, away.


Weeks go by without a soul
Tending the ever growing grass.


I chose that tranquil spot
For them to be blended in the soil
That many years before received
The bleached grey dust of her lover.


The years will effectively combine
Them in the soils embrace and then
She will be lost, untraceable,
Indistinguishable, shall become one.


My parent's will be done.

 

 

© Allen Ansell 2025
Categories: death, eulogy, family,

Blood on the Hearth

In the cozy inn by the fire's warm glow
Lies a woman's body, lifeless and cold
Her hair splayed out, like flames in the hearth
But no fire could warm her, not even in death

The guests all gather, hushed whispers abound
As they try to make sense of this tragedy profound
Who could have done such a heinous crime?
In this peaceful place, where we come to unwind

Was it the lover she spurned, in a fit of rage?
Or a stranger passing by, with demons to wage?
Perhaps it was someone she thought she could trust
But now she lies broken, her body just dust

The cozy inn is no longer so warm
For the chill of death now lingers and harms
The memories we had of laughter and cheer
Are now tainted with blood and filled with fear

So let us remember this tragic night
When murder came calling at the cozy inn's site
And may we find solace in the warmth of our kin
For life is fleeting, but love will always win.
Categories: death, murder, mystery,

Black Roses Whisper

black roses bloom where shadows creep
rooted deep in graves that weep
petals soft as silken sighs
drinking moonlight, cold and wise

they curl and twist with midnight’s breath
a garden fed by whispered death
their thorns, like claws, draw crimson bright
a sacrifice to starving night

winds that stir them hum with woe
secrets buried far below
names long lost on weathered stone
yet black roses hear and moan

pluck just one, and hear the call
a voice that slithers, thin and tall
a lover lost, a debt unpaid
a ghost unshackled, love betrayed

so leave them swaying in the dark
let them keep their mourning stark
for those who dare disturb their bed
find their own black roses spread
Categories: death, rose,

Never have I ever

There are so many things in life I can't do and it makes me sad. I will never know the Zeta function on the f line. I will never win a noble prize. I will never retain the entire dictionary in my vocabulary. I will never go to space. I will never be Bruce Lee. I will never change the past. I will never travel faster than the speed of light. I will never be Lenny Cravits. I will never control the weather. I will never slow time the first time I see a lover. I will never leave my own mind. I will never be you. I will never paint the Sistine chapel. I will never invent the lightbulb. I will never see gravity. I will never be a child again. I will never call the one I loved when I was young and thought it was love. I will never stop nuclear reactions. I will never be a super hero. I will never eat a dodo.
Categories: death, age, art, bird, creation,

Compare Thee To A Summer's day

 Compare thee to a summer’s day? 

No, my dear, you are a goddess of dismay. 

You are the bane of my heart, for you own it completely. 

You control my mind without a single effort, and for that you are my enemy. 

 

Thou art lovely and temperate? 

No, you are imperfect and cold as Mount Everest. 

You freeze my heart with ignorance, 

And light it once more with a start. 

 

You are not a summer’s day. 

You are a snowstorm that comes in spite of the sunlight of May. 

You are the rain that plagues those who have no roof to under stay. 

You are the disease that kills and spirits souls away. 

 

Compare thee to a summer’s day? 

No, it’s impossible.  

There is no way.
© Powder K-H  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: abuse, angst, dark, death,

Premium MemberEulogizing

A lover and a brother are heavy.
Recounting the contents of life is work.
A vessel holding unaccountable dust
may be volumes for a biographer’s notepad.
   “I miss she real bad!”
Whittled words.
Ponderous, leaky expression
surrendered by gross vulnerability,
and maybe a short lexicon.

A lover and a brother
and their handheld tomb,
this wild man pair in tropical print-
cotton tops mirroring loopy island ladies
under pineapple/banana coronets-
standing shoeless upon burning shores,
bearing their dead love,
gone sooner than hope had promised...
fish feed in a jar.
Categories: absence, death, feelings,

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