Lamentation Poem Novels & Stories

everyone agreed with her words cause they were the words of a sorrowed mother. While her body was getting burying, Loathefiya watched from far with tears floated from her soft cheeks to the ground. "Good bye Naha my sister" and she left weeping. She found a dark corner between two houses and sat there. People passed by from left to right but, no one saw her. Loathefiya stared at her doll quietly then she blasted and cried out aloud "why do everyone I love dies?WHY?.... NO ONE LIVES BY ME. I LIVE AS A CURSE CHILD...SOB..SOB"

After listening to Pang Tong’s poem in addition to seeing how thin Yvette looked, Darryl was heartbroken and inspired to personally write a completely new poem based on Pang Tong’s and his own emotions. The first two lines, ‘Where the idle sorrow is, it fills the sea and fills our words.’ represented how depressed Darryl felt for the past few days.

Arrogance befit no man for whatever we have today, won’t be buried with us tomorrow. ~Humeyra. HAMDAN’S P.O.V The last messages I got from Humeyra really messed me up. I didn’t know that I meant so much to her that my death would affect her as much as she said. The poem she wrote to me still lingers in my mind as I recall my heart beating to every word that her poetry entailed. The poem goes as follows:

And you can forget about a comfortable retirement! I stood in the doorway, coldly watching this scene unfold. My mother-in-law's hand trembled. She whipped around and met my eyes. Her face went deathly pale as she fumbled to end the call, her lips quivering. "Graham... You... Why are you home?" She stood frozen in place. She darted her eyes away, looking like a child caught doing something wrong. I looked at her, feeling a pang of bitterness. I let out a soft sigh. "Grace, even though Arya's gone, I've always treated you like my own mother."

Nor do the heedless in the throng, One thought beyond the morrow give, They court the feast, the dance, the song, Nor think how short their time to live. The heart that bears deep sorrow’s trace, What earthly comfort can console, It drags a dull and lengthened pace, ‘Till friendly death its woes enroll. The sunken cheek, the humid eyes, E’en better than the tongue can tell; In whose sad breast deep sorrow lies, Where memory’s rankling traces dwell.The rising tear, the stifled sigh, A mind but ill at ease display, Like blackening clouds in a stormy sky, Where fiercely vivid play. Thus when souls’ energy is dead, When sorrow dims each earthly view, When every fairy, hope is fled, We bid the un

We tend to do things that seems right only at that moment and later regret for having our mind function in such an absurd manner. I heard the main door of our house shut gently, indicating that he left. I sighed and dared not to spill any stupid tears from my tears. What was the point of crying now? I'd cry the whole night if it assures to make things better for me tomorrow. But I know it's not going to do anything except for draining me out of water. I silently walked to my bed and sat on it. There was this thing I knew about Brett. He doesn't get mad for unreadable things. He only gets angry if someone hits him in the nerve or hurts him in the hurt. Both the things happened today.

He sat feeling uncomfortable, he wondered what Sarah was up to. "Ryan, Incase I die, do not weep by my grave." "How...like what do you mean?" He looked at her perplexed. "Do not stand at my grave and weep I am not there; I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow, I am the diamond glints on snow, I am the sun on ripened grain, I am the gentle autumn rain. When you awaken in the morning’s hush I am the swift uplifting rush Of quiet birds in circled flight.

I will miss our trips to the nearby pool, We'd rather read books there and pretend to be cool, I want to say goodbye one more time and cry with one more kiss, Goodbye, my mother, it's you I will forever miss, When the storms fill my eyes, and all the feels make me cry, I'll remember your sweet lullabies as I say, 'Goodbye. Jeremy leaves the microphone, and everyone next to me pats my back. I never knew what to say at funerals. Poems were the only words that made sense to me. Of course, they don't make sense to other people, but to me, that poem wasn't for them. The sparrow in the tree spreads its wings and flies out into the clouds. I know deep down that's the last time I will ever see that

The people were there to say good-byes to their adorable Sir, who in a tryst with destiny, had died a day before. Zubeenda is humming into my ear: Tej mongohore morom newusi Joli joli roi mathu saai Bukuteje jui biyopai Tej mongohore prithibi newusi Joli joli roi mathu saai… The love of flesh and blood now foregone, She burns incessantly, Spreading the flames over my chest All that remains of her is ashes. The love of the world now forsaken She burns incessantly And all that remains of her is ashes…

Li-lah's cries intensified, her tears flowing freely as the weight of the loss pressed down upon her, threatening to crush her spirit. She crumbled to the ground, her entire body quaking with grief. The sheer magnitude of her sorrow sent shockwaves through her being, leaving her feeling raw and vulnerable. Words failed to adequately convey her pain as she sobbed uncontrollably, the sound escaping her in ragged gasps.