Most Liked Loss / Death Poems (1,049)

We lost
A sudden lost
We cry
What and why

Another

Who becomes
the tale

For the loss you have
had under these
circumstances.
My christian sister
i am so sorry.
For the headaches
that you feel and
darkness that over
whelms you pulling
you under.
I want to lift you
up i want to be there
if you need me.
I am sorry for all
that was taken from you.
For you deserve all
that you dream may
it come true.

Has anyone
seen my brother?
He was just here the other day
perhaps he is just sleeping
in the ruins of some city
so far away...

Has anyone
seen my sister?
a lovely country song
neither one said good by before leaving
or they would be gone
just left us alone and grieving..

Has anyone seen my brother
or my sister too?
They were here the other day
but they can no longer breathe here
I keep reaching for their hands
to tell them I can't really either...

They won't be back
this I know
I allowed them today in my mind
the past is healing so slow
the love I have in kind
suddenly came back today...

Lament my soul,
Lament and watch
black trickles
of sweet poison
flows quietly
into my river
that accumulates
in a dam now full
drop after drop
until it gives in
explodes, expose
Wound in my soul
festers in sight
as maggots arise
a horrid stench
from opened heart
left to dry out
under scorching heat
of a raging sun
only to be flipped
engulfed forever
by the darkness
of a cold cold night,
to freeze
to numb
to die
quietly

Tomorrow torn
by savage beaks
of vultures mean!

The blue waters – Sky – stand still.
On the horizon has anchored,
Moon’s pale coloured barque.
At the shore have landed,
All the sailors – every star.
The breath of leaves is choked,
The wind has fallen into a lull,
The gong demanding silence reverberates.
Then, stillness absorbed all the voices.
From the breast of dawn’s nymph,
Fell the veil of darkness.
Instead,
Dark shadows of despair and loneliness
Have covered her whole being.
Yet, she is not aware of it.
No one is any longer aware, that at dusk,
When he left the town,
In which direction he proceeded;
There was no path, nor any goal.
No traveller, now,
Feels up to the journey.
This is a broken link of duration,
From the chain called as Day & Night –
This is the moment to lament Time’s death.
On such occasion, quite subconsciously,
After removing the cloak of myself,
I too, sometimes, look at –
Those spots of rebuke,
And these blooms of affection.
Lines etched by running tears,
Stains left by the bleeding heart.
This rip scratched by the enemy’s claw,
This image impressed by a friend’s hand.
These jewels bestowed by tender lips,
These slashes gored by some evil tongue.
Still, this cloak,
My covering for day and night,
This torn mantle,
Is what I despise; yet, love.
At times frenzy demands:
“Rip it off, throw it away.”
And sometimes love whispers:
“Cherish it; hold it close to your heart.”

What other road could I’ve taken?
Thorns were strewn on each!
Relationships over,
friends of centuries
gone one by one,
alone,
whichever road and
whatever direction I took
my feet were bloodied.
Those who see me
wonder what am I trying to imply
by colouring my feet?
They used to say
why am I complaining
needlessly
about the loss of friendship;
Go, wash my feet.
Where these road end
hundreds more will open up,
keep your spirit up
your heart will blunt
hundreds of swords!

How will it be, the day death comes?
Perhaps like the gift at the beginning of night,
the first kiss on the lips given unasked,
the kiss that opens the way to brilliant worlds
while, in the distance, an April of nameless flowers
agitates the moon's heart.
Perhaps in this way: when the morning,
green with unopened buds, begins to shimmer
in the bedroom of the beloved,
and the tinkle of stars as they rush to depart
can be heard on the silent windows.
What will it be like, the day death comes?
Perhaps like a vein screaming
with the premonition of pain
under the edge of a knife, while a shadow,
the assassin holding the knife,
spreads out with a wingspan
from one end of the world to the other.
No matter when death comes, or how,
even though in the guise of the disdainful beloved
who is always cold,
there will be the same words of farewell to the heart:
"thank God it is finished, the night of the broken-hearted.
Praise be to the meeting of lips,
the honeyed lips I have known."

Do I want to live for ever
Never to grow old
To stay young and slim
Never to be old

Days will be endless
What would I do
Get married as you grow old
And out live you

A constant companion I would want
To fill my long lonly days
Of sollitude
The constant grind of living
Just to carry on

Never getting grey and wrinkled
Never being old
Never getting I'll
Imortal I have becom e

The fear of death never to happen
My constant living
To endour
This would be my curse to out live you all

At night my lost memory of you returned
and I was like the empty field where springtime,
without being noticed, is bringing flowers;
I was like the desert over which
the breeze moves gently, with great care;
I was like the dying patient
who, for no reason, smiles.

As long as the water tides itself to come and go
All real
Your sunsets set
And moon slowly slid to tomorrow

Your foot prints
neither came or went
Just
tired and
went away

Your voice 3years ago
happy
flicking yourself to life of change
as I

I see the path as you
told
our friend slowly passed away
You told me

Then time came and you were aware

It was now your time

Things kept
Are many things so kept that
I am forgotten
No

You
Just you

Fly away with many whom have flown