“Darkened Light by Stewart Stafford Ephemeral life fading, As a ground shadow, The cat in the shade, The sun's arm draped. Pose for a photograph, Thousand-yard stare, In denial of expiration, That bodily eviction. Take a breather inside, Too drained for more, Crash and burn out, Let quietus wash over. © Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved.” DeathDyingDeath And DyingEnd Of LifeThe EndTerminal IllnessDeath PoemsRunning Out Of TimeDeath PoemEnd Of Life Musings Author:Stewart Stafford
“Life Looks Lasting by Stewart Stafford Why should evening's last hues Get short shrift by rays of morn? Or contented looks of jaded age Be void by stung slits, newborn? The skull's opalescent orbs shut, A lifetime's sense memories kept, Amnesia's windfall revisited in spirit, In corridors of déjà vu, windswept. Though not the peeled eyes of youth Nor intoxicated with passionate ire, Scarcity unveils beauty in mundanity, Visions consumed by a funeral pyre. © 2026, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.” PhilosophyDeathGriefAgingMemoryAgeingLife PoemShakespeareanIntertextualitySonnet 73 Author:Stewart Stafford
“Champion Spirit by Stewart Stafford When Freddie Mercury passed away, Where did his spirit go to play? Zanzibar, Feltham, or Wembley? Or did he go and visit Brian May? Did he stand at the mic in Montreux? De Lane Lea, Trident, or to Tokyo? Did he party in Munich, NY, or Rio? Did his purring cats watch him go? Did he take a last look at Garden Lodge? Or whisper a final joke to his old pal Rog? Waves of affection were hard to dodge, His superstar status will never dislodge. © Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved.” DeathMusicMusicianQueenSuperstarLegendFreddie MercuryLive AidBrian MayRoger Taylor Author:Stewart Stafford
“The Fading Game by Stewart Stafford Though your life was stolen from me, I greedily wanted—and want—more. Death made us necessary strangers, And you, hostage to a timepiece fog. Pain’s screams in the kettle’s whistle— The brittle choreography of survivor’s guilt, Self-loathing: I had let you flee my memory, Your voice relapsed to white noise in life’s static. Assuming my agitated reaction made you recoil, As you faded as soon as you had arrived, The desire to connect was overridden by mutual bartering for a wary ceasefire. © 2026, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.” DeathLossGriefMemoryContemporary PoetryElegySurvivors GuiltPsychological PoetryFuneral PoemSuburban Gothic Author:Stewart Stafford
“The Mortal Tempest by Stewart Stafford In the tranquil, shaded crypt, Life's storms batter no more, Historia, the isolated remnant, Of an interior remembrance. The howling gale, a mourner's cry, Icy tendrils reaching to exert, The only possible pressure, On a shell in heedless slumber. A post-mortem death wish, Phantom projection of the morbid, To vacate an urn and soar, Swirling ash in the mortal tempest. © 2021, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.” DeathPoetryLossGriefMourningExistentialismMortalityDark PoetryElegyDeath Poems Author:Stewart Stafford
“Thoughts On My End by Stewart Stafford My last moments slip away, On which day, at what time? Snow chilling bones faster? Sweat in blinding sunshine? Halloween, Xmas or Easter? Evening or just after dawn? Pass away on my birthday? Gifts, mass cards all drawn? Will it be in long, slow agony? Or mercifully fast and painless? What will my drug of choice be? Will I be conscious or brainless? Who will be at my bedside? Many or no one, who can say? Kind words or total silence? I’ll hear and be on my way. © Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved.” DeathLetting GoMortalityDeath And DyingPassing AwayEnd Of LifeDeath PoemsDeath PoemFinal MomentsMoment Of Death Author:Stewart Stafford
“The Unanswered Question by Stewart Stafford Ask a body why it lies in a grave, And no answer shall ring in your ears, Ask the rat that squeaks like a knave, And there is nothing to ease your fears. See lightning's fiery eye wink a hint, Hear thunder belching out proud, Hail is flicked off like lint, Dumb as a corpse in its shroud. Mourners do splutter and cry, In unison or solitary grief, Hysteria governs their reply, Tongues pocketed by sorrow's thief. Only when you lay in dirt senselessly, Do answers come out of reach, Secrets clouded eternally, To an owl's shrill and wise screech. © Stewart Stafford, 2021. All rights reserved.” DeathPoetryNatureGriefPoemMourningMeaning Of LifeDeath And DyingLife After DeathDeath And Taxes Author:Stewart Stafford
“Thou Shalt Kill by Stewart Stafford Today, an official declaration: "The past's forbidden soil is virgin; The present, a thunderous chariot, To glory's gold destiny awaiting us. Go forth and offer up sacrifices!" But the blood we spilt was red, Whichever body it spurted from. Pleas for help, fused into one. Witnesses to death grew jaded. We made the living into the dead, Forged museums of crowded streets, In executioners' hoods at limp dawn. Arising afresh to our deliverance. © Stewart Stafford, 2024. All rights reserved.” DeathSacrificeGenocideExistentialMetaphoricalOrwellOrwellianBig BrotherOrwellian Nightmare1984 Book Author:Stewart Stafford
“The Mourner by Stewart Stafford Waxen candles flickered, burning, I found myself alone in mourning, Instinct urged me to turn around, Insistent feet kept walking down. A lonely casket at the altar lay, Not a soul came to mourn or pray, A surge of pity pierced my heart, Incense bade me dearly depart. Empty pews where no one stayed, I slowly illuminated the coffin shade, Blackout! Icy hands gripped tight: “Welcome to our endless night!” © Stewart Stafford, 2023. All rights reserved.” DeathChurchHorrorScaryMourningGhostsSupernaturalGothicCoffinThe Dead Author:Stewart Stafford
“Lazarus Saturday: The Longest Way by Stewart Stafford 'Lazarus, come out!’ said Jesus: A dead man awoke in a burial place, wrapped head to foot on a stretcher; He shook the cloth away from his face. Four days dead; his soul had gone. Tongues lashed the Saviour’s tardy arrival. The Lord, resolute, could overrule death — From the afterlife came his survival. From white-light end to darkest revival, life surging back into decomposing flesh. His chest burned as it rose and fell, bloated and blotchy skin, alive afresh. Lazarus struggled to breathe the dusty air; His body was freezing, deathly pale. At first, he thought he had gone to God; Until his friend parted the ultimate veil. Shuffling stiffly toward the cave mouth, newborn-blind to this second life, The Disciples rushed to unwrap him, His sisters embraced him as a bachelor's wife. Lazarus longed to tell what he had seen, forbidden to impart it to mortal ears. No one questioned his silent burden — The aged expression of Methuselah’s years. Yet from that day, he walked without a smile, The Void still echoing behind his eyes; A living witness to what none should see, Some resurrections come at too high a price. The word spread fast of this divine act, Of the Nazarene’s immense power; That his reach could extend so far, Beyond the ruins of the Babel Tower. As the daughter of Jairus herself revived, And Christ himself would rise on the third day, Lazarus survived Death’s tightest grip — A ransom no earthly king could ever pay. All rights reserved. © 2024 Stewart Stafford (Revised 2026)” ChristianSpiritualDeathHopeJesusGriefMiracleResurrectionEasterLazarus Author:Stewart Stafford
“The Chattering Season by Stewart Stafford Hear a fearsome banshee's wail, From a dank bog or Celtic dale, Like the pulling of the rat's tail, In the whistle of a thrashing gale. In this skittish son of Mc's room, A death knell tolls out his doom, A cursed shadow now does loom, Her spirit bride's unwilling groom. The stark evening's grim messenger, She's a maelstrom's fatal passenger, Howls from last breath's harbinger, No dowry for this eternal dowager. © Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved.” DeathHorrorScaryParanormalSupernaturalGothicBansheesCeltic MythologyCeltic SpiritualityBanshee Author:Stewart Stafford
“A Futile Gesture by Stewart Stafford Challenged to de Clair's Danse Macabre, Sebastian counted condemned steps, Thistle ranks awaiting duelling blood, A powdered farce of silk and steel. Spun, heart exposed to pistol shot, Sebastian faced his rival, Flintlock fired, A sharp crack counterpointed the gale, A crimson bloom on his foe’s ribcage. Honour preserved, whatever it meant - Slain Baron de Clair curtsied to tilled earth, The manservant held out his master's coat as if death were but a pause in the day. © 2025, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.” DeathHonorTragedyHistoricalIronyFutilityDuelingDuelDuelsDuelling Author:Stewart Stafford
“The Yearning Steeple by Stewart Stafford God hesitates to take the kindest; The recycled tradeoff ending life, Heaven's thundering, fiery stage, Echoes Calvary's conflicted strife. Undeserved things appear guided, To the apex altruists of all people, Finding beacons in cast down flame, That guide us to our final steeple. A world masquerades as meritocracy, In its numbing gales, forge aesthetics, "Leaders" tease our carrot cravings, "Rewards" crack mirrors of core ethics. Random flip of the Reaper's coin? Tidal fades of the mirage of youth, The story routinely ends the same. We slake our thirst with unclean fruit. © 2025, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.” PhilosophySpiritualDeathFaithGriefFateSocietyExistentialRhymeElegy Author:Stewart Stafford
“If I Returned From The Land of Death by Stewart Stafford If I returned from the land of Death, Could I recall its vast domain? To regale with tales of my last breath, Or bury all such earthly pain? Do infinite spirits teem astral skies, Whispering, "Infant, be not afraid!"? Ocean glare that blinds not the eyes, Heartfelt welcomes can but persuade. To see those I lost once more, As smiles and greetings abound? Why would I wade a waning shore, To reject formless bliss so sound? © 2025, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.” PhilosophyDeathSpiritualityGriefImmortalityAfterlifeExistentialMetaphysicalTranscendenceEmily Dickinson Author:Stewart Stafford
“Death is not the villain of the piece. It is the next phase of life in unfamiliar clothing.” DeathLossGriefLife And DeathGrief And LossDeath And DyingDeath QuotesLoss QuotesNext LifeLife And Death Quotes Author:Stewart Stafford
“Life doesn't end, you just run out of road.” DeathDeath QuotesDark HumorJourney Of LifeDark HumourEnd Of The RoadEnd Of Life MusingsJourney S EndLife EndsRun Out Of Road Author:Stewart Stafford
“I used to be scared of death until I found out it's now called 'end of life.' Phew, that was close!” DeathDeath QuotesEnd Of LifeJargonPhobiasGibberishEnd Of Life MusingsBuzzwordsGobbledygookScared Of Unknown Author:Stewart Stafford
“Dead Rite by Stewart Stafford While he lives, hope still clings, The hereafter remains a mystery, If life is but struggle and toil, Then death is hushed serenity. Things he treasured when alive, Trinkets to divide up as booty, The body still lying in repose, Nothing but a fading memory. Lay him down in a mossy grave, Heads bowed in a muttered eulogy, Then back away with platitudes, To the nearest exit from the cemetery. © Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved.” DeathGreedSelfishnessFuneralDeath And DyingUsersEulogyInsensitiveDeath PoemMourners Author:Stewart Stafford
“The Risk Assessor's Audit by Stewart Stafford An actuary at the butcher’s table, Serpentine watch-chain, strung as a noose, Each second, costed with surgical élan, Logging the theft in Babel columns loose. The paper catacomb lies crumpled, Its tenant, a doorway hobo in arrears, The knowing leaseholder's smile worn, Who'd changed the locks on all the years. The mutilated currency of memories, Clipped coinage set for melted dooms, Dried blood trickles in the hourglass, Turnkey guardian of vast, derelict rooms. © 2026, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.” DeathPoetryPhilosophicalExistentialismMetaphysicalContemporary PoetryDark PoetryGothic PoetryHorror PoetrySurreal Poetry Author:Stewart Stafford
“The Inevitable Tide by Stewart Stafford The inevitable tide comes, To claim every one of us, Whether sufficient breath of life, Is inhaled deep or forsaken. Then let them bend and screech, Their hearsay and homilies, To rake the ashes of earthly remains, In our final resting place. The person no longer lingers, Gone to Paradise or Hell, Purgatory or mere rotting decay, A ghostly rose bled white on binding soil. © Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved.” DeathRoseFuneralDeath And DyingGraveElegyDeath PoemsDeath PoemTide Of LifeTides Of Time Author:Stewart Stafford
“Ne'er Fade Away by Stewart Stafford The hillside piper's requiem, Guides old soldier's bones, To slain brothers of his youth, No longer a marching memory. His scars, Valhalla's roadmap, His medals, coins for Charon, His conquests, the beacon fire, His blood scours the path ahead. This churned earth is now home, Weeping craters, foxholes beatified, Barbed wire hands joined in praying, The minefield of life cleared for us all. © Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved.” WarDeathSoldierSoldiersVeteransRemembrance DayArmistice DayWar PoetryWar PoemsAnzac Day Author:Stewart Stafford
“The Dead of Winter by Stewart Stafford In truth, winter is the dead's season, Their graveyard chill touches Earth, The skeleton moon's danse macabre, As the darkened Sun heralds rebirth. Wild hunters of Christmas Eve skies, Mighty Odin or Arthur leading all, Hellhounds, fiery steeds, chase, To feast in a Valhalla or Camelot hall. Assemble at the hearth, my kindred, Share unnerving tales of gothic fright, Raised pulses as spectral guests join us, Frayed nerves spiked on this haunted night. © 2024, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.” DeathWinterChristmasSupernaturalDark FantasyGhost StoriesWinter SolsticeGothic PoetryFolklore And MythologyChristmas Gothic Author:Stewart Stafford
“The Cliffs Of Consolation by Stewart Stafford Don't fall meekly off Life's precipice, With Death stamping on weak fingers, Cling on, scream, fight the inevitable, For gravity’s jury's karmic reprieve. Souls crash in the surf beneath, The perennial tide of plankton orbs, In effervescent flows above the bluff, Doves flying back when the flood's over. If beyond salvation, down you plunge, Assuage yourself with lifetime efforts, All is pardoned, wiped clean in death, A phoenix risen from bodily constraints. © Stewart Stafford, 2023. All rights reserved.” DeathSpiritualityDeath And DyingRebirthPhoenixLife After DeathStewart StaffordThe AfterlifeStewart Stafford PoemsThe Cliffs Of Consolation Author:Stewart Stafford
“The Ticking Spiral by Stewart Stafford Man - the only creature that knows it dies, Creates structures to measure its demise. To poke and prod with hows and whys; Hours, seconds, melted candles of surprise. From booming birth; to bankrupt death, From nascent looks; to the last breath, The torch is passed to generations yet. To carry forth in a cycle reset. The ticking clock of heartbeats ends, As we say goodbye to family and friends, To return to wherever we first transcend, Time's ever-flowing river never bends. © Stewart Stafford, 2023. All rights reserved.” LifeDeathTimeLife And DeathDeath And DyingLife Is ShortRunning Out Of TimeSands Of TimePoems About LifeTime Poems Author:Stewart Stafford
“The Path We Must Walk by Stewart Stafford From dust, we are conjured, And, to black hole dust, return, Greater than parts that made us, From first breath to a cremation urn. O rake the ashen cinders over, With smiling teardrops past, A speck of dust, every echo, In an inner eye, fading fast. The cheerful moon, light in darkness, A hint of blazing celestial glory, Thawing all terrestrial tension, Life's character, a remembrance story. From fleshly body to a child of light, Weather kissing an empty grave, Wilting flowers nod to obsolescence, Sentiment, memory, unharmed to save. © Stewart Stafford, 2023. All rights reserved.” LifeDeathHeavenLife And DeathMortalityDeath And DyingDeath PoemsDust To DustAshes To AshesDeath Poem Author:Stewart Stafford
“Death is not life's cul-de-sac. It is an extension of that road once travelled. Though you must go one way and I another, we can and will reunite and resume our journey together.” DeathHeavenJourneyLife And DeathAfterlifeHereafterLife After DeathRoad Of LifeDeath Is Not The EndParting Of The Ways Author:Stewart Stafford