Lament Poems - Poems about Lament

I rose from flames that kissed my wings, A timeless dance where rebirth sings. Ash and ember, my cradle, my shroud, I burn anew, fierce and proud. I watched them gaze, their fragile eyes, Afraid of death, of fate’s disguise. Yet I am death and life entwined, A creature forged beyond the blind. The fire does not scorch it shapes, it molds, It claims...

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I was already drowning but I missed the rain I hate the heat and the way I fall victim to the suns fury He tricks me in spring with his warm rays Enticing me with trickles of light that dance between the blooming trees A waltz of flowers , a delight for my eyes How quickly he turns, a...

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Kentucky never did pull me Neither did Tennessee Kansas, best left to Dorothy ~ O, for the beaches of Waikiki ...

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I'm faced with debility, a deluded idea that i can make a change by doing nothing at all, staying the course. No matter how this my effect my fate. there are visions of delirium that come from a life of captivity. It's not the loneness that kills you. It's the echos, scratching voices that cling to the walls refusing to be...

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In the frostbitten belly of Russia’s spine, Where the stars are mute and the sun won’t shine, A man with chains and a shattered past, Counts the heartbeats that may be his last. He once wore laughter like a second skin, Now silence lives deep within his grin. No mirrors here—only ice and stone, To remind him daily: he is alone. They took...

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A DRUG ADDICT'S LAMENT KENSINGTON AVE IS WHERE I FIX A PLACE WHERE LADIES PLY THEIR TRICKS BUT UNDERSTAND THERE IS A FEE KENSINGTON AVE IS NEVER FREE WALKING NOW I’VE GOT THE SHAKES GET THERE SOON IS ALL IT TAKES THE CITY HAS ME IN A RUT EMPTINESS ROLLS AROUND MY GUT JUDY’S THERE SHE DOESN’T CARE FAST EDDIE HAS HIS DISTANT STARE AND THEN...

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D-o E-veryday S-mile I-n R-eal E-motion, E-xpressing K-ind H-eart I-f M-ind M-ourns E-ach N-ight, E-mbracing S-orrow ©bfa051125 Monocrostic (Birthday of Desiree Khim B. Menes)...

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Written: May 08, 2025, for contest by Brian Strand. Art "Sitting at the Dock of the Bay' Oil, Plein Air Series, by Michelle Held. My Poem titled "Quiet Pier’s Lament" was written using this artwork as its inspiration. It's better to read the poem while looking at this artwork. ...

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Sorrow's heavy cloak, Silent tears on shadowed cheeks, Heart remembers loss. ©bfa050425 ...

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There are no words woven tightly enough, no whispered solace, no comforting embrace, that can truly ease the jagged edges of this loss. My heart, a bruised and fragile thing, aches with a relentless rhythm, each night bleeding into day, and day a stark reminder of what will never be. To witness the final, fading light of someone so young, so vibrant,...

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Aimlessly, I wander in a melancholy lament. Looking deep into my soul as the day is spent. Flaming hues of mountain sunset start to flare. Feeling the dark encroaching shadows of despair Finally, twilight brings in a starry change. As night’s life of love heals the lamented pain. Lying in tall, cool grass, staring into the night sky. I feel this incredible,...

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Why do you see only the frailty of my wings Why are you mesmerized by my beauty Intrigued by the intricacy of my colors Dazzled by my aerial antics Do you not see my strengths My passions, The urgency of my being The immediacy of my purpose Let me kiss the flowers for you Ride the gentle breezes of your hearts Tease the paws...

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No one told me the moment you parted. My disheartened heart left the room the moment I turned the corner, and saw his golden badge as he nodded in comforting dismay. That day My heart learned the rhythm of grief Slow Sickly The kind that brings you past your knees, and drives you six feet underground. Who needs two burials in one day?...

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The roots do not grow alone. They twist in the dark, searching for each other, feeding off the same dirt, the same rain-soaked silence like we do. Quiet and craving. The trunk is not proud because it stands tall. It is proud because it holds the weight. Cracked and groaning under years of storms. It never breaks,...

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Am I as beautiful as they say? Or are they blinded by my looks. Sure im a woman, But that’s all they know. That my femininity is for them to behold, My walk talk and glance, All created for them, And them alone. Assuming romance over friendship, Assuming I owe them something— For what? Glancing my way? Being nice? Do my words mean so little to you, That you...

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