Death Voice Poems | Examples

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


Hollow Frame

A boy walks slow through halls of glass,
His shadow flickers, thin as grass.
Each step a secret, each breath a theft,
Of hunger’s war and weightless heft.

They whisper when they think he’s gone,
“Is he okay? He looks withdrawn.”
But laughter fades when backs are turned,
And eyes like his are never learned.

His plate remains a battlefield—
Each bite a blade, each meal unsealed.
He counts the crumbs like ticking clocks,
His ribs a cage, his soul in locks.

Inside, a storm no one can see,
A gut that groans in mutiny.
IBS, a cruel refrain,
Twisting joy into quiet pain.

His friends? Just echoes in disguise,
With hollow jokes and plastic eyes.
They smile sharp, then look away—
He’s present, but he’s not okay.

They call him “buddy,” slap his back,
Then laugh the moment that he cracks.
Lonely, yet he's never alone,
A ghost among his flesh and bone.

He’s drained—of hope, of strength, of care,
A paper boy in poisoned air.
Yet no one sees what’s underneath,
The brittle scream behind his teeth.

And so he walks, a whispered name,
Fading into his hollow frame.
Each day a mask, each night a sea,
Of pain no soul will ever see.
© arno niem  Create an image from this poem.


To be black part II

To be black 
Is to live life freely
Despite being trapped in a cage without a key
Ignoring the hate from society 
As their bodies radiate envy
Trying to destroy our joy through spreading negativity 
And taking our lives violently
To be black Is to smile in the face of adversity

To be black 
Is to find beauty in the aftermath of war
And find a singular flower thriving in the trenches
To be able to see life even when faced with death
Because being black automatically means that we all face loss even when it's not ours
But it's a collective loss that comes with the black experience 

To be black 
Is to have the ability to come together as a community when something bad happens
Whilst others are divided by the pain they experience 
To be black Is to lead with your mind whilst being supported by the heart
It's the ability to have the strength to face pain 
Whilst simultaneously fueling that strength with the pain they've had to endure

To be black Is to have the whole world against you
And not only survive 
But thrive

Premium MemberAnatomy of a Breakdown

     too many choices
     whispered voices
     
     nagging doubts
     indecision sprouts
    
     anxiety flips
     paralysis grips

     nervous breakdown
     brain shuts down

     lowered into the ground 
     world yet goes ‘round

The Silence Of Your Voice

The Silence Of Your Voice

   No new day have I seen since you went away, like trying to empty the oceans with a spoon,  tears fall in the hole left so deep in my soul.

   Words spoken spin like a vortex never leaving always hurting, promises of a life together fading before it began, friendship never ending but true love was always over the never ending horizon.

  Days like today when I wish a line was there, to call you up to ease this troubled mind. Heavens number would be called more than once, like the messages we used share in that time not so long ago.

 Memories reach from deep inside, dark as the void between galaxies far away, shining their light but heat never felt, the feeling I wish you could take from me. 

  Your pictures tease of happy days now long since past, summer times when we were young, help ease the silence of not hearing your voice in the winter as I grow old.
  
  
    By
Patrick D

The Crushing Crash

I got crashed; I became crashed;
There must be some reason;
I endured when I was lashed;
Still, all slandered me of treason.

I get flown by the Pilot,
Who, too, succumbed with me;
Tooth and nail he had fought,
But who won was destiny.

It’s a world that’s too strange,
Of course, in the negative way;
Slaughter is beyond my range;
I can’t even think of it any day.

Sometimes, I become free,
Free to have a vivid voice;
None can escape from destiny
That snatches our each rejoice.

None ever thank me for my aid,
When they approach their destination;
In dire disgrace I am laid;
Well, there’s no procrastination.

I lost my all; I lost my life;
I failed to land on London;
Humanity’s too full of strife;
All, all become too undone.

How could I save them all?
I, too, had to die in the crash;
I took off; then I did fall;
Then occurred the brutal lash.

It’s too easy to blame on me, right?
Well, I won’t justify my innocence,
Because I was bereft of any might
That could arouse our prudence.

The tragic end haunts my spirit still;
Is there none, none to mourn on me?
Like a candle, I did try all to fill
Up, but…again … destiny!


Premium MemberMy Inner Voice Told Me

There was a D.J. at a club where I
would go some weekend nights and dance till late.
Not gorgeous, but an entertaining guy,
he called me up and asked me on a date.

It took me by surprise. I thought why not?
Something inside me did not feel right though,
My inner voice told me perhaps I ought
to just stay home. Doubt grew. I dared not go. 

A few days later, on the news I heard
that guy who’d called me was the suspect in
a murder that had recently occurred.
To think that with that man I could have been
and stabbed to death like his victim was!
Heed your inner voice if it gives you pause.

the unnamed

ghostly gray petals—
a shadow crossing the grass
I stepped on a name





______________

A minimalist reflection on mourning and the erosion of identity, set in the asphodel fields of Greek myth, where unremarkable souls wander without memory…

Premium MemberVoices

What’s the reason to die, the wise know
In a thousand voices they confide to me
Their valued opinions, but I’m too slow
To capture the truth they can clearly see
One dies, two are born, and it doesn't matter
Who will they become, one may do
The same thing, another may do something better
Until the third comes to change the whole view
But these abstractions seem too grand for me
A new meaning cannot replace the old
I belong to my own, smaller reality 
Where her paradise garden my love has grown
There I stay, listening closely to you
To the voice that I know so innately close 
Realizing that death isn’t eternal, it too
Comes and goes, in the mess of its time resource
But aren’t we doing the same again?
Reiterating ourselves, we’re expelled
After the rest we are back somewhen 
Hearing the voices we know so well.

Ray Your Voice by Siddharth Yadav

Ray your voice like the morning sun,
Breaking silence one golden run.
Let your truth rise in hues so wide,
No storm can dim what you confide.

Speak not in echoes of borrowed grace,
But in the rhythm your soul can trace.
Each word a spark, each thought a flame,
Set fire to fear, shed every shame.

Ray your voice — let it dance, let it scream,
Let it heal wounds, let it dream.
In whispers soft or thunder loud,
Make it real, make it proud.

For every silence held too long,
Breeds the death of a needed song.
So ray your voice, don’t hold it in —
The world begins where you begin.

WOMEN POWER

Take your power women, and use it for good. 
Remember the times that we suffered with no path to grow. 
They made us work for free, and kill our children by abortion and lack of money to give birth. 
They made us choose life or death, by failing to give us choices. 
We needed free education, free universal daycare from birth forward, free support to help us grow. 
They tricked us with words of love, yet they gloat when they tell others, they have no wife or children or lover.
They used us and sometimes abused us with tricks of love. 
Sometimes they raped us, and laughed and failed to admit they put us on a negative life path.
Making our life trajectory become sad and depressed.
Remember the power within yourself, hold it close and remember the lost and the weak as you grow.

Help

Forever blinding shadows
When will it end?
Walking day and night
Screaming, hoping a soul shall hear me
The devil whispering into my ear
Lurking behind me
Shall I follow his path?
Endless nights, blood stains
Forever responsible of his murders
When will it end?
Sinful thoughts in my head
Spining in a non stoping circle of wrath
Despair, Depression, Anxiety
When will it end?
A knife, a cut
A flame, a burn
A room, chains
A shadow, a man
Is he still here?
The shadow staring at my soul
A creepy smile
The same song, round and round
A snap,
once, twice, thrice
There we go again
The power of the scream piercing through my soul
the tears, the open wounds
hoping empathy
hoping mercy
Therefore, here i sit
trapped in my own world...
Did you hear me?

Premium MemberMessenger Story

Before we were so rudely interrupted
We thouroughly enjoyed a chance we’ve got
We couldn’t foresee our plans will be disrupted
I didn’t know our time would be so short
Five happy years, then one day a curtain falls
So terribly alone, I sit and cry
You speak to me again, and the wheel rolls
I’m scrolling back to hear your previous reply
The messenger archive contains our story
I’m praying for the safety of our time
They can erase us without saying sorry
They can do anything, and we can only die
You’ve gone away, it means we’ve had enough
Of this old world, of all its joy and pain
Let’s die again, the cause of death is love
Your voice with me forever will remain.

Premium MemberMy Voice

If I could talk, what would I say
Would I use my words in a major way
Will the world listen to my aggressive voice
Or would they walk away and leave me with remorse 

Don't tell me the answer, just leave me lonely 
My heart can't take another person being phony
So just leave me out here on the ocean shore
To talk to the only person who loves me more

It's not the air but the shadow of my mind
That blocks the sun when it's trying to shine
So I'm going to speak my words from negative to positive 
Influencing myself to think clearly more often

I'm going from a doubt of fear to believing in myself
Start talking with aggression to everyone else
No more being self-conscious and talking in silence
My voice is now going to be heard no more being quite

I know when I speak, I'm going to be a force to be reckoned with
No more being in the background. I'm making an emotional shift
I'm taking over the world until death silence me
So everyone be aware my voice is going to be a masterpiece!!!

The Lord was not in the Wind

He went into the mountain cave
Hoping his life from Jezebel to save
And a great and mighty wind tore in
But the lord was not in the wind.

Then the earth quaked, and the ridges heaved
But still he wasn't sure that he believed.
He feared imminent death, he felt so alone
The solid earth was full of shattering stone

Then a fire ignited, like candles in air
The trees went in flames, and help was not there
He raised a cloak as defense, dropped his sword
But in the fire there was no sign of the Lord.

He feared quick death, so much chaos around
But through the noise he heard a still small sound.
He walked to the entrance, looked out of the cave
After the destruction - what was left to save?

The voice spoke quietly, said "Why are you here? Go return:
The righteous will join you; the tables will turn."

I'm not sure what the story means
Maybe the idea is all is not what it seems
Perhaps it says to keep your perspective
To maintain hope in an ultimate objective.
When you get to the torrent that you must ford
When you are pursued by an unreasoning horde
When you're inclined to stampede with the herd
Take time to think for yourself, listen for his Word.
© Gem Stone  Create an image from this poem.

Premium MemberHer Voice Resonates

Her voice resonates
Strongly in my delighted ear;
My soul smiles -
As if she'd not died years ago
And been shut away in a wall ...

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