Petrified Poems | Examples

Petrified Lights

The Northern Lights petrify
Leaving stains of color to grated souls.
Foreign thorns entice the sky -
threshing what's left of flesh.
For a season deceiving remains,
jaded petals cover sinister views
~Yet~
Wilted and jagged with pigment stagnant -
Dark; blackened to average -
Decay begins from less fortunate sins.
Charisma lost while miracles fold -
Enigma strikes like pyrite gold -
Within life loss -
An aura with no glow.

Petrified Heart: a Tale of Treachery

In a labyrinth of treachery, my broken hearts cries,
From an unspoken betrayal, that no love survives.
She deemed my love wanting, a river too weak,
While I poured all into her, till I became a creek.

My silent vows etched into every setting sun,
Her needs, my command, until the day was done.
I never complained, grumbled, nor moan
She always wanted more, wanting a pet to own. 

A blunder, she weeps, her voice a hollow song,
Her reptilian tears swear to have wished no wrong.
Claims of love, of missing our yesteryears' night,
Yet, now I see her true nature, a bloodsucking parasite.

Once, an angel of light in my star-struck gaze,
Now a golem, a specter in the burning blaze.
Her visage, once my sanctuary, now vile, obscene,
I should’ve foreseen that she was tainted and unclean 

"I cannot bear your sight," I declare, broken, torn,
My heart, a sculpture of stone, in her love's scorn.
No more, I will overcome this relentless pain,
For you've petrified my heart, it’ll never feel again.

Petrified

I need my family, friends, community,
I need to live in a happy home,
‘Though I might seem hard and cold,
I am not made of stone.

For when I am mixing with others,
I’m in my, so-called, happy zone,
‘Though my own company is okay,
I am not made of stone.

I am very much alive you’ll find
And made of flesh and bone,
And not immune to loneliness,
I am not made of stone.

My biggest, biggest fear is
Of ending my final years all alone,
This thought petrifies me for -
I am not made of stone.

Petrified Tree

Up near the peak of Rockies,
Me and my limbs live in frigid cold,
The mountain seems to be frozen in time,
Being a petrified tree, I am frozen in stone.

As I ascended to the heavens,
I had to leave my earthly leaves behind,
I could have been a towering blue spruce in the valley,
Up here I am a diminutive figure amongst towering peaks.

The seasons change without changing my mood,
The fall does not mean anything for my bare limbs,
The winter snow and avalanche do not shiver my rocky bones,
The spring bloom brightens the valley but leaves me for dead stone.

When I have achieved such a high perfection,
The clouds and lighting can hardly scathe my tranquil position,
My soul has achieved its golden ambition,
I love being petrified as nothing can change my imagination.

Petrified Pirate Ship

In middle of Mediterranean Sea
Lies a petrified pirate ship
She froze in place during a fierce battle
Her secrets and treasures locked inside
Wait here.
Treasure map coming soon

The Melancholy of Salt

I could tell you who I am,
But I'm petrified of opening up.
Why am I terrified of pouring like a river?
I wonder what mountains gave me such shame.
But you'll forever live,
Within the cracks of some beating heart,
I wonder,
If the first stab of heartbreak,
Was the same shades to you,
Purple, yellow, a tinge of pink.
What is the melancholy in salt?
For it resides in all endless things-
-Tears and oceans. 
                    -By Pavika

Snapshot of Petrified Life

In the mist of the journey’s penultimate mile
at the edge of the fading pasture of future obscure
in the twilight hour the sunset swansong resonates
for the forlorn tree of the being silhouetted still
against the blazing skyline of transient brilliance
witnessing the last flicker of the dying day. 

Twirling threads of turmoil entwined seamless
with the cleaved clouds of the swarming storm
ravage the unwary horizon halcyon once
mimicking the chameleon transformation
on the convoluted canvas burning the last corner
from the surreal chromatic flare the ashes fly away.

The shards of the splintered sky in the swirling gale 
roll on the dismal waves of the curled up clouds 
the remnant rays of sanguinity surviving still 
in the departing flashes of the sinking sun
fabricate the latent lattice of unframed dream
in the petrified life’s kaleidoscopic snapshot.

February 22, 2021
For Brian Strand Contest A Brian Strand July 2

Petrified Halloween

In full moon’s mystic frame hungry wolf’s silhouette howls,   
in the creepy stillness a tall figure in black cloak comes out  
through the spiked rusty gate of a castle on the smoky hill.
Arms stretched wide he wafts in air like a hooded black bird 
like the Count used to do in Transylvania, as the story goes. 

When the moon reaches the canopy of the starless slate sky, 
I see petrified, the dark figure standing in shade outside my door, 
the cold blue gleam of the eerie night smeared on the ashen face. 
Before I could retract I find myself clasped in his strong arms,
with wolf's red eyes glaring, fangs piercing his bloody lips pressed 
on my jugular vein, in hoarse voice he says “your blood I will sip, 
you will turn to a vampire, in Dracula’s castle you will live with me”. 

October 11, 2020
Contest : Halloween Fright
Sponsor : Carolyn Devonshire

Petrified Forest

petrified forest
stands stoically
in stony silence

Petrified

when the atheist pretended he had good faith in trusting belief

that his world was not flat and he was unable to circle the square

roots of fake news flashes and other soothing misconceptions 

they praised his critical doubts as they proved divine existence

‘only a sinner will reach penance’ and they sent him to heaven

‘they crushed my persona and gave me a blasphemous halo’

he could not win because even Peter had abandoned the gate



22nd June 2020


It’ only make belief poetry contest

Sponsor Regina Riddle

Dale the Brave

My life flashed before my eyes as I sat in the driver’s seat
I clung to the wheel for dear life
my face was as white as a sheet

Would this brave man named Dale 
live to tell the tale? 
Had he written out a will 
Drafted Out in great detail ?

I was petrified you see
But he had confidence in me 
His fantastic sense of humour 
Acted as a diffuser

He calmly talked me through it 
With the patience of a saint 
How he coped I’ll never know 
As Michael Schumacher I ain’t!

He had a scientific brain
And as we drove he would explain 
Tell me random facts and stories
As we ventured through welsh lanes 

Now I really can’t deny
That one manoeuvre made me cry
But with his tolerance and charm 
My frustration he did disarm 

When I finally passed my test
His relief was well expressed
He turned my life around
Now freedom I have found 


Favourite Teacher or Professor contest
Sponsored by Chantelle Anne Cooke 
20th October 2019

Petrified

Lost in a cocoon of my design
I stare into the dark
My eye wary of teary drops

Nightly clouds clad together
Floating in the ocean above
Raise a war cry of thunder

A reminder of another world
Another existence I couldn't fathom
Silently, fear crept up

Man the pawn, X the player
Pawns die with each move
But no, not this time

Petrified Grounds

doped up with caffeine - scintilla of sunshine way too bright

6/24/2018

Petrified Heart

Empty sight blocked out hearing, 

Deceased feeling, no point in breathing, 

Clogged veins, drowning in blood, 

Unlike my heart I still feel emotional beating

To myself, Feel my own, 

When it ends i will be at home, 

The crows will welcome with the majestic songs they sing, 

Tell me how to fix my broken wing, 

So one last time I may be free, 

So i may hear, 

So I may breathe, 

So I can speak, 

And once again i could see.

No words can fix, what was broke inside me

Petrified By Trump Horn Haiku

Petrified By Try Trump Horn Haiku

Were all petrified
Each time that he often lied
Cannot be denied.

Has perfect excuse
So we said what is the use
Can Trump make a Truce?

Big mouth don't display
With our minds no longer play
From us go away.

James Thesarious Hilarious Horn
Retired Veteran and Poet

Horn Haiku have a total of nine lines
and each in the same paragraph will
rhyme with each other.
The square root of nine is three and 
the square root of three is George
Washington's birthday.

• Short Petrified Poems
• Famous Petrified Poems
• Best Petrified Poems
• Read Petrified Poems
• Long Petrified Poems
• Petrified Quotes