creative-writing, Death, dream, Fiction & Poetry, fiction and poetry, Life, Love, Poems, poetry

The Girl with the Ouija Board

Dark sinister whisperings
rouse my soul up,
‘Every Tongue has a demon
buried within its veins, for
it gives birth to thirst,
lust and blood.’
She told me before sleeping,

Archaic hymns, butchered lemons
drowned in vinegar, disappeared behind
a mist of lavender smelling candles,
apexed at pentagram made of saffron

I feel her curves turn cold,
the lips turn ominously black,
‘Eyes are windows to this world,
darkness is the passage to all other’
she keeps murmuring,holding my hand
till it is not she anymore.

I could sense it the way my hands are touched,
the way she removes her clothes then
and the way she kisses.
She never told her of her fetishes
and now I can’t even ask.

© Shashank Bhardwaj

Poems, Random thoughts

Shattered Windows


Windows that are shattered tell a story,
of people that live there without any glory,
broken glasses do cause pain,
hitting back memories spent in vain,
of roof left attended,of cradle that swings till now,
of laughter that echoes like scream somehow,
the winds dare not create any noise,
to awake people trapped there having no choice,
the blood is spilled all on the floor,
a perfect setup for a serious gore,
the baby still laughs and runs the place,
searching for the dog,never ends the chase,
the place remains like this anytime of the year,
laughter,voices that seem terrible my dear,
i haven’t seen them but just have heard
they were a happy family,like every third.
nobody stills know what happened there,
some say it was murder,some say poisoned air,
leave them alone and do not follow,
for their memories are scary,happiness hollowed.