Death Verse Poems | Examples

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


Premium MemberIt Is Hard To Say Goodbye


   The final threshold.
       Death gives a sign,
       uncertainty and unanswered questions.
   A strong and sturdy bridge,
          that many have walked across.

   Listening in the emptiness,
      a harp without strings.
         Emotionally imperfect.

   Words fail,
      thoughts and feelings dominate the room.
        ~ without need for description
   You have struggled for so long.
        Accepting does not refer giving up.

   The thing I never said 
          meant nothing,
      Words cannot change the course of life.

   A night without a facade,
        reflecting your truth and sagacity.
      You do not need to prepare.
        Follow the light in soothing peace,
   with unconditional acceptance.


Premium MemberThe Thing I Never Said

For you are nevermore.
Your eyes' last light 
never illumined mine.
Death prompted us 
to be hasty -
curbed childhood,
sped me past stop signals,
headlong onto adult carousels.
But we must agree over how these hours are 
moving against our wills.
I've remained still until here,
grasping a rumpled-up grocer's receipt
with this budget-buy pen, 
confident of words 
I have space to admit now 
and bury in poetry's 
kinetic cemetery.
I'm sure I loved
your faulty teeth's scattered English,
its determined guidance.
I wished my life
had been adequate
to cover your shortfall 
as you had covered mine 
back when I was all but novelty.

Premium MemberStabat Mater

it does not matter what your discourse
lost in the marble folds of la pieta
mother holding her son
rises above mere human differences
the sorrow of a mother holding tragedy
mauled as a common animal
the fruit of her womb
it began in the encounter, his road to calvary
her vigil as he passed
watching her son forced to abandon life
the outstretched arms, hands bleeding
the wound in his side, feet anchored with nail
Simeon's sword has come to pass
no matter the discourse herein, a mother's sorrow
she is not alone, a plethora of mothers
know too well this aching heart
as the smoke clears and cannons rest in silence
across the bodies now motionless
we hear a desperate plea
mother, mother, no cry dearer

   9/15/26

Premium MemberKing Of Terrors


Life’s unsung tunes fade away 
into nothingness with the menagerie of mirage
disappearing in the realm of death.
Trudging on the desolate deserted pathway
the fragile footprints collapse in his kingdom
where the cosmic monarch of the end, 
the ruler of the last breath,
carves his throne from the sands of time.

With the arcane image of terror concealed
like the sordid silhouettes of lethal menace 
the king rules without mercy or malice,
lurks in the shadow of dark danger	
into the quintessence of placid life,
and waits at the pause of every heartbeat,  
encased within the freight frame, 
configured from the vicious void 
of timeless inevitability.

Premium MemberA Dedication to my Godson Carleton Halstead

A DEDICATION TO MY GODSON CARLETON What can I say, when I received news that you had gone to be with our Lord. I called you, but you didn’t respond. I asked our Lord many times to make a change in your life, but I didn’t expect this. My only hope was that I was a good influence in your life, and that you felt you could depend on me. I hate to see you go this way, but it seems to have been the only choice, if you can call it a choice. I will miss you terribly. So long, my dear Carleton. I will always love you.


Premium Membernine-eleven 1

then ...

we watched
a world weeping
blood …
a villain's twisted hope
humanity's horror
steel like butter
melting …
strange birds in stranger
air - flailing …
sirens in chorused agony for
those whose voices
were silenced …
perfect azure vault, stained
with poison ...
breath of ashen
brutality -
the incense for an
evil anointing …
a somber search for
survivors -
for bodies, answers, hope
for God ...
death screamed at
the sky and
opened the keep -
truth tumbling into the
darkness …
two decades down, yet
it still trembles
whispers ...

waits.





~ POETRY AGAINST POVERTY ~

( photograph of twisted metal taken at backside of Ground Zero by Anne Buber )

Premium MemberThe Ghost Course

August end 
Welcoming Autumn cool breeze 
Distributing new academic spiritual syllabus 
Sun illuminates' life’s pondering campus 
Deceased leaves spotlight beauty 
Depart the world 
Will return again
Alive and well 
A Mother nature rebirth 
Steeped in tradition
Tonight an escort holds a lantern 
Ready to guide me 
Through the early fall dark 
Star less night 
Wanting another day 
“Do not be afraid 
Future arrives soon 
And you will have your historical spirit”
This I remember 
Getting ready to haunt 
Those who need answers 
More than gold 
Introducing closure 
Honest strong treasure 
Discovered through 
Exploring resting peace 
This I am told 
After ghost orientation 101

Premium MemberAmy Cat Passed

Amy cat passed
     six days ago today…
   FATE took her away
after eleven purrfect years
We offer this tribute with gratitude
     for the gray tabby ninja with cattitude —
   finis vitae sed non amoris
© Mark Toney  Create an image from this poem.

Premium MemberIn the Face of Death

He’s always smiling, the damn fool
Sometimes veiled as a new moon
Sometimes bright as the midday sun,
And always right there with me
Right in front or riding my left shoulder
Good old Death, so patient and kind
Giving me another day
Waiting for that one last dance
As I work the steps, again and again
Wanting to get it right
This one last time.
What do I see in that face anyway?
All that I have been
And all that I may yet become.

(9/11/26)

Premium MemberTreasure Your Freedom

I have to admit
at times I am intellectually 
lazy – settling for the thoughts
and leadership of others.  Being
wrong is a heavy responsibility
when it comes to life and death. 
When it comes to failure or success.
The chef knows the heartache of
a bad flavor.  The captain, a sunk 
ship.  The father, no roof over his
family’s head.  What must God think?
With infinite wells provided, and so few,
having the blessed opportunity, willing to 
draw for themselves.
-----------------------------------------------------
"Youth is too often wasted on the young"
as Freedom on the Free!

Premium MemberAt The Cemetery

The monument was stone -- 
actually marble, somewhat
more affluent.  The writing
was calligraphy, carefully
chiseled by a fine hand. 
The occupant was dead -- All the same….

Premium MemberFather’s Day

I remember as I child
eyeing the Christmas
tree, all lit and broadcasting.
Early-on I realized that Father
was Santa.  Mother sensed it
when they married. Father, let go of his 
well defined ego, embraced the principal
to secure the family, protect and 
serve selflessly onto death.

Premium MemberSated

I have drunk my death in your eyes,
and now my thirst is sated.

Premium MemberBrave

switch the light on
and never turn it off
once the darkness is gone
you'll fall in love

when the light shines for you
you can finally see just what they do
and once you know
the future may not be bright
because terror hides in plain sight

all you have 
they'll try to take 
all you love and 
all you make
for power and money
is all they crave
send you to war
because they are so
brave brave [brave, brave]


we are the ones who win the wars
and they are the ones
who keep us on the floor
fight their battles
but never win
return home 
and wonder why the wars begin
© Dave Cox  Create an image from this poem.

Premium MemberEntropy, Quiddity

My anonymity runs deep. The world
without the self. What a relief! Simple 
sky blue belief. Simple as this headache.
Truth, laws, physics. God’s first and only words,
wafer-thin old moss-covered stones. Amen 
to men. Where a man is at no matter what. 
Now and then a baseball game, night of love.
Knowing to whom, for whom, one is bespoke. 
It’s a simple secret shared, longevity, 
watching for the smoke to be black or white. 
Keeping busy, forgetting to fear death, 
giving up desiring to be touched,
belonging to the loved ones and wooful war. 
It too may be a sign to go on alone.

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