*Chomp*
*chomp*
*chomp*

"Chomp"
makes the sound,
as I cut your parts
to pieces
and feed your flesh
to him.

I have a
pretty sharp pet,
don't I?

Pity,
you had to
meet my Piranha
this way.

-

Ghosts
Don't
Scare
Reapers.
Collecting
Rent .

-

The beauty of death,
lies in the eyes
of the
K I L L E R.

-

In the still of night,
She egresses of her cemetery bearing a ghastly doll in her hands,
From the window of my house, I breathe down her neck with the help of binoculars,
Her macabre face casts light upon
the enigmatic despondence related
to her past life,
Her dishevelled appearance
evinces that she belonged
to the waifs & strays when
she was alive,
Her tears egg on me to solve the conundrums related to her life,
Prima facie she flummoxed me a lot
but I saw with half an eye that she's nothing but a poltergeist,
Her lips mutter a cacophonous dirge that only I can listen but it has become my pet peeve too,
Her entrance in my life paused my life for a while but later on I started collecting ins & outs of her past life and this job appears to be my serendipity given by the God!

-

Girl in Black Turtleneck
Oh! Where can you possibly find her?
Surely curled up with a book, beside a fireplace.
Mascara dripping from eye lids, darkening her bags like shadow.
Oh, who could just walk through the corridors,
Like she proudly survived an explosion,
Or caused it?
Possibly be the girl in black turtleneck.
Sleepless nights or dream less nights,
Golly! She's the patron of it.
You may never find her in her room.
Library, is where she resides,
Living in the Victorian Era.
Roming the corridors,
Quoting Shakespeare and Keats.
She's the lady in black turtleneck.
'The Macabre Girl', is what the normal people call her.
Murder is indeed one of the reasons of her living.
It opens her mind, a little more, as she states.
She even says, being normal is possibly unerring, but to err is human.
Who can she possibly be?
But the bizzare queen in black turtleneck.
-Aheli

-

Our World is filled with macabre people doing gruesome deeds leading to a massive catastrophies which remains quails in everybody.

-

Oh, mankind!
I pity you.

What a history you flaunt,
All black and red.
What a bravery you reward
When innocents you slain.
Wars, revolutions, and bloodstreams
What peace do you redeem?

You think yourself affluent
Nesting in the ghettos of greed
And admire your wet souls
drenched in the shallow creed

(Read in caption)

-

Dance like nobody's watching
Tap those heels, steer your neck, look around, and swirl your back, aim to dwindle and shine so bright, your soul is hungry and it demands a sacrifice; so do away with fear and rise from it's ashes, dance like nobody's watching as if you're born to Odin!!!

-

Ye lambee raat kati hai kya?
Tere andar aag lagi hai kya?
Sach ki aandhi sab ko jagaaye
Teri sotee rooh jagi hai kya?

Sarkaari safey, jhootey ahwaal
Betuqee tehreer, berehem sawaal
In daag ko dhotey maasoom ashq
Be-adab chala mazhab ka rashq.
Ab andar chot lagi hai kya?
Teri sotee rooh jagi hai kya?

-

Macabre Thoughts

Lately, I've been plagued by thoughts of my own mortality.
The temporality and fragility of my own life.
It hits me in the most ordinary situations.
While I enjoy the breeze through the window on my ride home from work.
Or in the final conscious moment before my eyes close in sleep.
Or at the very top of the Ferris wheel I rode last holiday.
A million and one creative ways I could die.
Would I be missed? For how long?
By whom other than family?
Have I lived? Or achieved anything worth leaving a footprint in the sands of time?

-