Deathbed Poetry - Hope Against Hope
I've become an outlaw, I've been ostracized My lovers and friends stand apart from my side My neighbours stay far away Solitude, the greatest torture Solitude, the greatest torture This agony I cannot bear alone Solitude, the greatest torture Keep my soul safe against any invader That in my weakness might undermine The trust I have in you through my faith Solitude, the greatest torture Solitude, the greatest torture This agony I cannot bear alone Solitude, the greatest torture Let it be known for every man That you were my God and I was your servant Until my end In my end Let it be known for every man That you were my God and I was your servant Thy kingdom come Thy will be done Solitude, the greatest torture Solitude, the greatest torture This agony I cannot bear alone Solitude, the greatest torture
Submitted by johnmansley — Nov 15, 2025
Like thousand years is one day for you, my Lord Please, now for me, let one day be like a week During mis singular day, for seven critical days Allow me to weigh and judge myself So you would not have to First day is the day when you come to me No matter the way, you always put me in crisis Second is the light and witness of my conscience In which I have both sorrowful guilt in my soul As well as glee of your sun that rose Third one is the day when I prepare to receive Your Son through sacrament he has decreed And as I become participant of bread and wine Your Son's flesh and blood also become mine On fourth day my house shall be parted As from this world I must depart This is the day or Lent, eve of a quantum feast Fifth one is the day of resurrection I shall be awaken, my body and soul reunited Then joined to the body of Christ Sixth one, the day of crisis and judgment When my sentence shall be passed My seventh day, my abiding sabbath In your rest and glory I shall live With no need for counting more days "Surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age" (Matthew 28:20) "Never send out to ask for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for you"
Submitted by NecroGod — Nov 15, 2025
Man's happiness is lent His misery his property Man himself is a land And sea, so deep nis poverty Being (being, being) Being human (human, human) Being human (being human) being No man is truly healthy unless he values his health Sees the greatness of such a gift, delights and rejoices about it Man as such is but the dust of the earth Damped by tears, blent with dirt His being is soil, his status wretched What we call happiness here Has another name up there Being (being, being) Being human (human, human) Being human (being human) being Feeling (feeling, feeling) Feeling human (human, human) Feeling human (feeling human) feelings
Submitted by Dahmers Fridge — Nov 15, 2025
Earth is the center of my body Heaven the center of my soul My body falls down with no-one pushing Soul doesn't rise up without pulling Slowly my soul ascends towards heaven Like head over heels my body has fallen Along with the first touch of sickness I also feel it's victory - It makes my life deceased Gone is the sleep, the image of death To make way to the exemplar itself - I might die rigtit now Surgite, mortui - rise up, you dead Surgite, mortui - rise up, you dead Rise up, you dead — surgite, mortui God shall not give me into the hands of Satan I have fallen into the hands of the Lord My bones have no peace for the sake of my sins Pass my sins upon the one in whom you've pleased I shall see how great is his mercy And peace shall dwell within my bones Gone is the sleep, the image of death To make way to "the exemplar itself - I might die right now But God calls the nonexistent as if they existed Surgite, mortui - rise up, you dead Surgite, mortui - rise up, you dead Rise up, you dead — surgite, mortui
Submitted by Pestilence — Nov 15, 2025
I drink misery Happiness I only get to taste Gnei I reap with a scythe By hands I pick spikes of delight In sorrow I tramp constantly Rarely do I get to lay my feet Onto the soil of joy My misery is absolute, my sorrow unambiguous My happiness is dubious, my delight inconstant Barely any bliss is free from false and vile I must be poor and live in dearth To be able to show true gratitude And to be able to have patience I must be forlorn and tormented How deep must we dig, and yet How impure is the gold that we find Your grace may crowd into the depths of my soul But it does not make it unsoiled Your chastisement might burn deep into the core Yet I won't get rid of what is spoiled You let the rain fall upon me It doesn't always melt my harshness You light your blaze within me But not always burn away the dross You leal my wounds, still the scars remain The scars remain, scars still remain My misery is absolute, my sorrow unambiguous My happiness is dubious, my delight inconstant "It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners." (Mark 2:17)
Submitted by Corpse Grinder — Nov 15, 2025
The autumn has to arrive, will it be autumn for this disease Or the autumn for me; a question remains, not mine to decide I cannot know who cares for me when I've gone, so I'll receive all the care while I still breathe For when I'm buried, I've gone into oblivion, I'm forgotten, sunk into the waters of Lethe In communion I receive not only bread but as well your given Son's flesh Thus I become an ark, a monument and the grave of your most blessed Son Through communion he and every merit he gained by his own death Become buried within me, making me alive in this world, immortal in the one to come Allow me to see, O Lord, that not the most fierce disease; no contrition of sin, temptation from Satan Or prison of decease; not this malady bed, not even grave; dark and confined can deprive me From that intent and desirable aspiration You have sealed for my fate The greatest indication of your mercy is to pass away in you And through death become unified with the One who died on behalf of me
Submitted by Grave666 — Nov 15, 2025
Why does not my soul foresee; beware, suspect and be aware of sin Like my body bewares of sickness? On every path there's a sneaking snake A hidden temptation in every vocation Yet I walk, run and fly to these Paths of temptations I could flee Burgle a house of raging plague Far too far I test my fate -I entice the Devil himself Sin makes me sick (sin makes me sick) binds me to bed Makes me decayed (sin makes me sick) buried and dead I never had a conception of my disease O greatness and depth of this wretched misery Where the first symptom of sickness is hell Where the fever of lust, pride and envy Never rang a bell Where the first messenger speaking to me Does not utter "You might die" Neither he says "You must die" Harshly he states "You have died" Sin makes me sick (sin makes me sick) binds me to bed Makes me decayed (sin makes me sick) buried and dead There, my soul first becomes aware of The irrevocability and incurability of my sickness And yet, my God, I cannot accuse you For you've placed an alerting artery into my soul The voice of conscience which I extinguish I speak, I drink and I sleep until it's defeat Sin makes me sick (sin makes me sick) binds me to bed Makes me decayed (sin makes me sick) buried and dead I am the prodigal son, my share was not denied I got my heritage, wasted and threw it away But you, my God, have taken me back again and again; paid for my sins With the life of your Son; for the wages of sin is death Is the end of sickness
Submitted by Iron_Wraith — Nov 15, 2025
This malady bed is but a grave All I can say just an epitaph variation My hands and my feet, oddly shackled These feeble sinews, my chains of iron My chained wrists remain the stiller The looser their bonds have become On this bed of sickness I am the ghost of my own Frightening those who see me at my worst Consider me dead as I lie here still Practising for the time I'll be lying in my grave Lord, is this how you hang a man In front of his own door As you nail him down In the bottom of his bed? No one remembers you when he's dead Who praises you from his grave? No one hears me singing your praise On this bed of disease, this door of my grave - Gravebed, gravebed State, even lower than this malady bed I might be lowered deep under ground If my body shall fall into grave You shall lift up my soul, washed out Over and over and over again In your tears, in your sweat, in your blood "Do you want to get well?" (John 5:6) "Be merciful to me, Lord, for I am faint; O Lord, heal me, for my bones are in agony.' (Psalm 6:2) "By his wounds we are healed." (Isaiah 53:5)
Submitted by Morgoth — Nov 15, 2025
Fear; imitating every state of mind; looking like love, yearning for something Yet being fear of losing; envious, suspicious; looking like bravery, dangers despising Yet being fear of losing respect and admiration I cannot express what fear really is, I do not know what I'm afraid of I'm not afraid of the incoming death; still I fear the progress of this sickness There is no obscurity found in you, my light and my brightness No untangled discrepancy exists in you, my sun and my moon Not every sense of fear is cowardice, not every swerve an aim to escape No, every claim is not a conclusion; no, every wish of change not a sign of despair There is no obscurity found in you, my light and my brightness No untangled discrepancy exists in you, my sun and my moon Fear and joy, fright and delight belonging together, one breeding another Those rejoice of you who have fear for you; for the fear of the Lord is the origin of wisdom There is no obscurity found in you, my light and my brightness No untangled discrepancy exists in you, my sun and my moon
Submitted by NecroGod — Nov 15, 2025
That which is the most clandestine is the most perilous as well By the curse of the serpent, I am cursed By his creeping I shall be ruined His sting in my heel was but a start And along with death, afterwards Through my ears, through my eyes He has invaded into my neart Through the holes in my very soul In me the serpent works in secrecy; his presence I do not notice One of his greatest deeds; when I sin, none perceives His undeniable master deed; I sin so secretly even I don't see Not that the Devil is within me But that I've become the devil for myself I do not only hold an adder on my chest But for my own self I am that serpent Let your serpent of brass be ever-present in me Let nim heal this wound, stung by the serpent of old May the lion of Judah stand protecting me Against the roaring lion, seeking whom to devour Grant me the wisdom of serpent to guard me Against the wickedness of the serpent Serpent of brass against the serpent of old Lion of Judah against the one that roars And the spirit or your Dove against them both Against the roaring and the wicked ones "For God will bring every deed into judgment, including every hidden thing, whether it is good or evil." (Ecclesiastes 12:14) 'So do not be afraid of them. There is nothing concealed that will not be disclosed, or hidden that will not be made known." (Matthew 10:26) "When I kept silent, my bones wasted away through my groaning all day long. For day and night your hand was heavy upon me; my strength was sapped as m the heat of summer. Then I acknowledged my sin to you and did not cover up my iniguity. I said, 'I will confess my transgressions to the Lord' - and you forgave the guilt of my sin.' (Psalm 32:3-5)
Submitted by NecroLord — Nov 15, 2025
As long as there's a chance to negotiate Things are not in totally hopeless shape Even in evil there's found some goodness Well enough to arouse frail confidence O worthy guardian and sentinel of men Who turn to counsel while guarding them Whose every external deed Is a deed of the whole Trinity And within every task and duty Lies the hand of triune Deity In my body there's no such blood vessel Your Son's blood hasn't filled, I humbly confess The Son of man I've crucified time and again With my sins, so manifold and frequent O Messed and honoured Trinity O divine and complete society If you accept this confession or mine And consider it in your counsel divine Then is my case not a hopeless one And my ruin not beforehand done
Submitted by Finntroll — Nov 15, 2025
The man who's funeral these bells are ringing, has reached his destination yesterday How come the bells didn't ring 'til now? Bells that rang yesterday Ushered his soul, the vanguard, out of this world The ones ringing today bring his body, the rear, into the church Bells that will ring wnen he gets there bring him to me so that I could learn The bulls that now ring Memento mori, memento mori My God, besides this fever, do I still need Another reminder of my mortality? Do I need to watch the skull in the ring When my own face shows me the same thing? Must I seek death from my neighbour's house Though I can find it inside my blouse? The skull in the ring Memento mori, memento mori The bells that now ring Memento mori, memento mori The skull in the ring Memento mori, memento mori I can hear this late brother of mine Whom they now lower into his grave Preaching through these ringing bells My funeral sermon Speaking out aloud fratai that belfry Silently whispering from these curtains Uttering your own words: "Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord from now on" * *: (Revelations 14:13) "The bells rings out: the pulse thereof is changed; The tolling was a faint and intermitting pulse, upon one side; This wronger and argues more and better life. His soul is gone - whither? Who saw it come in, or who saw it go out? Nobody, yet everybody is sure he had one, and has none."
Submitted by Finntroll — Nov 15, 2025