Sad Elegy Poems | Examples
These Sad Elegy poems are examples of Elegy poems about Sad. These are the best examples of Elegy Sad poems written by international poets.
They called it a seat,
but it was a cradle of fire—
metal-wrapped, bolted shut,
no window,
just the hum of wires
and the memory of old Moscow snow
still clinging to your pads.
They fed you well
and fastened you in
with practiced hands
that trembled only later.
You blinked once—
trusting, calm—
a good girl ascending
where no stray should go.
The capsule ticked
like a settling house—
soft clicks and mechanical sighs,
a shifting weight.
You floated slightly,
snout twitching for air,
wrapped in the smell
of aluminum and heat,
no wind, no scent of rain,
no footsteps coming—
only the pulse of Earth receding.
Your breath grew fast,
then faster still—
in a cage of heat.
The tether drew tight,
your heart raced wild—
then slowed,
then stopped.
The straps dissolved
as your soul slipped free—
a wisp of fur,
a flicker of light
curling through circuits
into the stars—
and no one called your name.
They never brought you home,
but I see you sometimes—
a pale arc before dawn,
falling neither fast nor slow,
the ghost of a girl
who once chased shadows
beneath the rusted cars
of Moscow.
¿Hay alguien más leal que un perro?
¿¡Hay alguien que te espere en la puerta
de tu casa moviendo su colita!?
Aquel día a ese animalito al que alguna vez
llame hijo no me esperaba más en la puerta de mi
casa , pensé por un instante que se había escondido
porque haci solíamos jugar pero está vez lo ví tirado
en el suelo , con sus ojos cerrados.
Empecé a pensar que estaba dormido hasta que lo toque
sentí un frío en mi mano , de pronto apareció la muerte y me dijo:
El te esperó todos los días de su vida más nunca regresaste hasta ahora , te fue leal hasta su último suspiro mas nunca lo supiste valorar ahora no te arrepientas de nunca haber venido que él ya se fue para nunca más regresar...
Concurso:"Esto es lo que llamo un amor de verdad"
Screams of heart,
Pricks of needle.
Shivers of the Cadaver,
Breaking of thunder!
How can't I wonder?
Lying crushed on the land of tormentors.
Little did they realize,
How hard they made me cry.
The moment I asked,
Is there a place to run?
Or a place to hide?
A pair of sight,
Staring deep, dark into my eyes.
An unspoken question reclined:
"Why are you still alive?
Why didn't you die?"
Lightning struck up high,
Leaving my undescribed condition behind.
Quivering digits seized the pen tight.
Praying and begging, I asked:
Is there a place to run?
Or a place to hide?
A question came to my mind,
How shall I write when-
Feet remained immobilized,
Lips left paralyzed,
Tears dropping, symbolized,
The horrified ache of angina
Whispered a final byeee!
May now you tranquil,
May now you alleviate,
Since I reached that place
Where none can penetrate.
It's known as Paradise,
Completely different from my mind's eyes.
Is it the place to run?
Or a place to hide?
It's been forever since you went —
To the other side in a heartbeat —
To return the life you've been lent,
Towards the edge of the stellar backstreet.
Your footsteps echo until now,
Thumping gently throughout our little place,
As my longing heart can't find how
To make myself accept your ended days.
And my frail soul is pierced each time —
The perfect curves in your mouth I recall —
How they soothe like an angel's chime,
As they fade away in the fall.
If I weep my tears in the void,
And if I scream until there's nothing left,
Would He return your chance — destroyed?
Rewrite your bright tomorrow that was theft?
But I know in myself the truth —
That at last you've gone to the clouds afar,
Away from the pain and dispute,
So I bid farewell, wherever you are.
-
Historically the books are written by a well-known writer
The characters are formed to choose the sense of flight or fighter
The library of the mind stows away the facts from the fiction
The sequence of events unfold, memorised with restriction
The nature of the story, can cause the mind to cry
The loss of peaceful innocence in those days gone by
The imagery of barricades in a crowded stark front room
Foreboding silence and tension create a sense of doom
In the old terraced house, there’s a closure of ranks
As the fighter steps forward and the other flanks
The pushing and shoving in the silent stark room
The circle decreases and a flash warps the plume
The memories jagged as they cut like a knife
As she’s hit by the boxer and fights for her life
The dry autumnal street carpets red and gold
The crunch of the leaves cushioned the blow
The flash of the memory vivid and sharp
Innocence held with such disregard
The nature of the story, can cause the mind to cry
The loss of peaceful innocence in those days gone by
Telma
People call me the firstborn
But in the warmth of this cold, I know it was you
The world wasn’t too kind to you
Releasing rivers of tears from father and mother
And so, I dance with sadness in silence
Like someone embracing the echo of a goodbye,
Hoping that in this heavy emptiness
While your silence screams in my chest
I walk alone, carrying you with me
Our future, a broken mirror
In every shard, a joyful smile has left
The past whispers, the present stays silent
Between us, an empty scaffold is built
Banning the outpourings of a beloved brother
That’s how it is, as one flower blooms, another dies,
But in your departure, our love withered
I don’t blame you, I’ll dance in the void you left
With a face flooded with tears in the desert
Our reunion, my tender longing
I walk in this darkness lit by your cold warmth
Telma, evil gifted us a sad feast
But God has reserved for us a banquet of happiness
Sadden that she’s no longer here can’t hear
She’s no longer here above ground alive
Her sweet voice silk skin smooth as lavender
Yet her truest self in essence with God eyes
Beloved rest sweetly deeply in the God
9/25/24
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2024©
The day I leave this world behind I'll find solace,peace of mind and no more pain,just happiness.
Don't mourn my passing,don't shed a tear for I've been trapped in my sorrow year after year.You didn't know my struggles,my deepest pain but now I'll find freedom and happiness will reign.
Wear black for me,a somber hue,a reflection of emotions I held true.No grand eulogies,no empty praise,just play the melancholy tunes that sooth my gaze.
Let the sad songs in my phone be my final refrain,a reminder of the heartache I've endured in vain.Celebrate my release,my newfound peace,for I'm finally free my soul can cease.
From the darkness I'll find my way to a place where love and joy will stay.
[NB:This is the modified version of "The day I die,the first poem I posted"
“not every story has a beginning
some are told in the dark,
some begin at the end of our lives
& some end at the beginning of pains”
there's a glue that has a name—July 13
strong enough to glue a diving eagle to the sky
i hop on Sleepless memories outside my body
to watch the sun swims in the ocean
i write epitaph too
i stand in & watch life through my window bar too
as he bird hunts fireflies to lit up his hatchling intestines
i, an artist,
next to canvas with beautiful painting in mind & Sleepless pain on palette
i stand alone in his footsteps to watch the sunset
as a man laughs in his children's names, i imagine my father's face like a country buried under my tongue
then go home with digested depression in my belly.
Its wings were double fronds of gauzy green,
its fragile form a long and tapered flair—
this fallen dragonfly I had not seen
before, when I had walked out on my stair.
I bent and saw that it was not alive,
its body crushed, its wings ravaged and torn.
Yet something of its beauty still survived—
a remnant of the luster it had borne.
I marveled at such elegance in death,
a noble creature, still, upon my stair.
A wave of melancholy took my breath,
and eyes welled for a thing so fine and rare.
I put the grief away and dried my eyes.
Such is the way of tears and dragonflies.
Those years, that flew on by one decade past,
included twelve of us whose lives were fun.
For sure, we felt those pleasant times would last
to share as one until our days were done.
We did not know this time would be so sad-
as in our senior years, most were not spared.
And one by one, they left until we had
just five left in our group as illness flared.
Just five left now to reminisce, compound
how visits, trips, and cruises- sparked our years-
when each of us, with spouses, gathered round.
Now with fond memories- we soothe our tears.
Sore, sadden alone and down trodden. Smitten
Stuck on the facts we’re not truly physical
I use to visualize I saw, I touched not anymore
The scent of you not anymore
Even in mine dreams the sight of you dazed a blur
Oh’ how I loved you, the touch of you
The sight of you
The physicality of you
Now eternalized in another guise different point place you reside
In my heart, and mind, soul refreshing a blessing
You left yourblessed mark allure--
Maya Angelou Quotes
"And when great souls die, after a period peace blooms, slowly and always irregularly. Spaces fill with a kind of soothing electric vibration. Our senses, restored, never to be the same, whisper to us. They existed. They existed. We can be. Be and be better. For they existed."
7/17/2024
E Form - Elegy Poetry Contest
Elegy poetry form only.
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Original song: Go In Peace written by Sam Baker
Go and see what's waiting for you
Go and hear sweet angel's sing
I will come, and I'll be with you
When my time here is through
Then I'll fly above the stars
Away from sorrow, away from pain
To the place my heart longs for
To be with you, with you again
Go on wings of birds or angels
Nevermind,I know you'll fly
Your soul is light, no burdens hold you
Even my arms that held you tight
Like a butterfly you flew
Away from me but to your home
And although I ache to hold you
I have faith, I have hope
So don't look behind you darling
Fly straight and fly true
To strong arms that hold you safer
Then these arms ever could.
And if you do look down at me
From your heights of joy above
Don't be sad , don't be angry
Please forgive this mother's love
Mourn person’s loss or death;
Person was lost in life, fleeting breath, taken left;
Now found in death sorrow, wail, and moan;
~
And groan sore, weep, cry, sob torn;
Beat one’s breast,
Ululate
7/15/24
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2024©
“How exactly, my love, am I to die well?”
The question croaked - a ghostly whisper;
from her lingering mouth
of rotten teeth and wretched lips;
broken by an end of thrist.
Eyes glazed at the edge of reality.
A mighty visage; a matriarch.
Vitality faded as a memory.
No more beautiful fiction,
only firm, cold skin;
left behind.