The Unwelcome Guest

My conscience was under redevelopment
And I had visitors in the new home I built,
They came and go, some stayed for long,
But the unwelcome guest never left.

The unwelcome guest stayed in the bottom cellar,
Which was there in the pit of my stomach,
Isolated it was, as there was no room
To notice it, with the other visitors.

The unwelcome guest was often hungry,
But it had learnt to oppress its hunger,
Because in the dining room in my heart,
There were other guests being fulfilled.

Until one day, there was silence,
Etching onto the corners of my stomach,
The hunger of the unwelcome guest could no longer be suppressed,
It made its way to the dining room.

The seats were empty and the shadows lurked,
My conscience was now a building out of order,
I have learnt to fix what’s broken and I solve equations I get accidently right,
But the unwelcome guest has cast a shadow so dark,
Every light has ushered out,
The chandeliers in my heart don’t sparkle anymore.

There are no visitors willing to stay,
Everything is intact but nothing is right,
But the unwelcome guest remains ghosted,
Until one day.

As the unwelcome guest wants to take over,
And become the owner of the house I’ve grown till now,
Which though is out of order right now,
With the unwelcome guest pulling the reins,
My home will destroy to ruins.

The unwelcome guest can’t be fed anymore – as it has become the feeder,
It is eating at me and every part I call home
And leaving me with my veins ripped off,

It’s waiting for the pain to become so deep
that it’ll become a habit to master over time,
The only thing I feel would be emptiness,
Because pain would be the habit which will become me,
And the only feeling I’ll ever feel, but yet not a feeling.

The unwelcome guest cannot be defeated,
As hatred is what I deserve,
I have tried too hard to be someone I think I was
But now I know I am nothing,
But a puppet in the hands of this guest I did not invite.

The dining room has turned into an empty stage,
The windows are shut and the roof at a endless height,
The dust of the diner’s footsteps are hiding behind faded curtains,
The path is now paved with broken glass

As the unwelcome guest has become my owner,
My soul is surrendered to that invisible face,
Which has been proving me wrong since the day I believed,
That peace was something I could achieve.


Hello everyone! I had written this one a while back however I am posting it now. This poem is a fictional piece of work, with the concept of ‘the unwelcome guest’ being the central motif, that is a concept, idea, object which repeats itself throughout the text and is hence recurring.

The poem begins with the setting of a well- built house, with the unwelcome guest not being prominent due to being kept buried by the owner. However, gradually the factors the owners held on to for not dealing with the unwelcome guest eventually moved away which paved way for the unwelcome guest to take control, rather than the owner having the chance to deal with the unwelcome guest.

The main motive for writing this poem was to display the disturbing effects of the negative feelings inside us, and how keeping it buried does more harm than good.

Yes, it is important to have a perspective to understand our thoughts and emotions and our very being, but it is alright to not have an immediate perspective about everything, and sometimes feeling your negative emotions is the only way to gain needed perspective.


P.S – Am I the only one who is totally obsessed with the ‘evermore‘ album by Taylor Swift? It feels like it was only yesterday when ‘folklore‘ came out (which I am still not done obsessing with) and now we have evermore. If creating two albums in a year especially the year being 2020 is not an achievement then I don’t know what is.
Check them both out on Spotify here!

And here, I end this post. You can contact me here and I will reply as soon as possible!

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The Bloodbath of Our Love

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Photo Credits – Pinterest

Our silence is more of a distraction than our love,
My longing for you drains the pure blood from my veins,
As I stuff my mouth with
The letters you wrote me,
Trying to quench my thirst
With the dried ink,
But choke on the yellow pages instead.
Want to feel your love through these words,
But your passionate words,
Now feel like venom.

Intoxication.
Suffocated air.
Lacrimal streams,
Flowing red in despair.
Blood boiling.
Blur transition,
From lover to bloodsucking beast,
As the poison,
Consumes every corner of the body you deprive.

Stone-hearted love,
Freezing fingers,
Heightened senses,
A deadly desire.
A vicious vampire under a hood,
Looks above the opaque shadows,
Eyes widening,
I’ve slumbered too much.

Nerves embolden emerald green,
Now I see clearly,
I desire the blood of your body,
Intoxicated by our love.

I pounce on you,
A merciless carnivore,
I suck the sweet nectar,
From your bleeding neck.

Lips luminous red,
An ever-growing hunger,
Satisfied for the time being,
My throat is now not parched anymore,
My thirst for you is quenched.
As I slice your throat and make you bleed,
The way you slit my brain,
Into a deluded madness.

I lick my lips,
Only to fulfill my thirst.
Maybe when I’ll wake up tomorrow,
I will wail my pain into demonic lakes,
But if this little adventure frightens you, my holy love,
You will suffer worse,
For these weren’t your last breaths,
As I’ve condemned you,
To a fate worse than death,
For now you are gonna join,
My human hunting,
Embrace your being,
Of a nocturnal beast,
Thriving on mortal blood.
As we dive into utter insanity,
The deadly kiss,
Of immortality.


‘Ello guys! First of all, this is completely my imagination and doesn’t mean to demean any beliefs. So, this poem is about a human who is driven into such insanity by a toxic lover and misses him so much, that she tries to give herself hope by trying to feel the truth in the words of his handwritten letters by stuffing her mouth with them. However, this lover being toxic, had mixed poison into the ink, which makes her choke on the pages. Technically, she should have died, however the goodness in her heart and her innocence prevents her death and gives her a chance to re-start. She is now reborn a vampire and is rid of the delusion that this lover was truly in love with her. However, she is in transition and has a choice. To trigger vampirism, she must feed and if she doesn’t, she would die a human. She decides to accept immortality and kill the toxic lover to trigger this power. However, deep down she is well aware that simply seeking revenge won’t make her any different than the evil lover. She would be as evil as him. Hence, she gives him a second chance by cursing him with vampirism.

What I intend to portray is that while vampirism is seen as a curse, it is a blessing for some. While the toxic lover gets stuck with guilt, as for her, she finally starts to see clearly.  The aftermath of the poem has three different paths. One, that the lover chooses not to trigger the vampirism out of guilt, other, that the lover chooses to take his brutality to another level by replacing his activity of breaking hearts with removing them out of people, and the last one, though a bit hazy, is that he unknowingly triggers it and spends his eternal life seeking redemption. Either way, what I intend to say is that we always have a choice, and happiness is a choice.

You can either be stuck in the past and not find peace, or accept its pain and not let it define you.

Everyone has their own perspective and belief, and you must always remember that they are unique and your own no matter how unpopular or unaccepted. I speak of vampires as if they do exist. And they do, however the way they’re represented in movies and shows are only for entertainment purposes. I wrote this poem having completed The Originals, and I was so deeply immersed in that thrill, that I had to write this one.

To know about how actually vampires live in real life, read here, which is an interview with a real-life vampire, and this, to know about their lifestyle, and a study of the vampires in New Orleans. 

And also, one more thing that I intend to convey through this poem is that as much great it is to give a person a second chance, it is most essential to give yourself a chance, and to believe that no matter how much painful it is now, no matter how tough this situation is, something good always lies ahead, no matter how far away the distance from it. You just need to give yourself a chance and believe.


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Dust

Your ample words, and the horrifying motives hidden vaguely behind them,
Act like a sieve for my thoughts and emotions,
My every bit of sanity you’re extracting from my brain,
You are making me lose control as I cry out loud to the forlorn universe in which I’m dying.

My ripped soul’s translucent tears,
Evaporating into the empty voids,
Precipitate the hazy atmospheres of my brains,
And it rains.
It pours heavily.
Their stone-hearted cold criticism floods through my conscience with rage,
With every puddle of anguish within absorbing my mind’s peace.

Yes, I’m different.
My soul’s scarred with a million miserable cuts,
Blood streaming out from these suicidal scars,
Red paintings on my parched skin,
And oh! Such an immense bittersweet relief I perceive,
From these habitual portrayals of huge, red masterpieces,
Painted painfully by my blue-green veins.
The veins which bind me to reality,
But I hate this reality,
because it has you.

Scrutinizing every deed of mine,
So unfairly you treat me and drown me in despair,
Hence today I shall free myself of this reality I’m enforced to believe are of my own choices,

You thrived on the thought that you could control me,
Use me,
Betray me,
Torture me.

But now I will finally be free,
For I shall expose the deadened veins of my neck to fresh open air,
Which I breathed in, and urged me to swallow, and not let out,
The blood I produced in every breath taken in this atrocious atmosphere,
But I shan’t allow myself these bloody lumps of guilt to taste anymore,
I will finally now bleed to my death and your profound joy and rest in your grim grave with pleasure.

My freezing body is collapsed in front of your feet,
I’m making you witness eternal peace,
You walked over my identity, my personality, my feelings and mercilessly hurt me,
You unreasonably desired to gain control over me.

So finally now my mortal body is surrendered to you,
I am dead.
Finally devoid.
It’s so easy

So walk over me,
“Bless me” with your chapped feet,
Stamp on my soulless hollow lungs and shoulders,
And make me bleed my heart out.
Puncture my limbs and eyes out of their places,
Tear my scars and bruises apart,
Wound me deeper,
Snap my neck and torment me further.
Grasp your evil dagger and gleefully into my soul thrust.
Fulfill your lust,
Finish me, demolish me, and crumble me to dust.


This poem is to emphasize on how intense a person’s feelings can get on being criticised on every single thing. The people judging them for everything they lack do not realise that they’re hurting them.

It’s important that people realise that nobody can be perfect or be exactly matching the expectations of perfection, and it is not even required to be perfect. We all are unique and have the right to have our own beliefs and the right to choose for ourselves.

We all have a spark inside us, a reason to stay alive and survive. Embrace yourselves. Nobody can do a better version of you than you yourself. You are perfect in your imperfections. Thrive in your inner beauty.

To all those people battling and struggling in all sorts of wars in their lives, you unknowingly inspire millions of hearts and give them hope and courage. So have courage, have hope, and know you’re the best💞

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The Branched Out Souls – Choked to Death

I request every reader to please take some of their time and fully read and share this article. I’ve written this poem in protest against the proposed cutting of nearly 3,000 full-grown trees in Aarey Forest for the construction of a Metro Car Shed.

I was at the innocent age of five,
Deluded in fairylands with faint knowledge of reality,
When I sowed my first seed,
And hoped for it to branch out and bask under nature’s glory.

I used to hydrate the sapling and took care as if my child,
I conversed with it as I believed it possessed a soul,
That soul which provided me a comfort flawless,
I wish I had known that that too I would have to let go.
How unaware was I of the world’s cruelty!

And decades pass by,
My little sapling has matured and is merry with his fellow mates,
And now that I see, through my home’s gallery,
This impeccable token of natural beauty.

I feel as if this terrain is my paradise, my heaven,
With the tall, girded trees as their ruling Gods,
The most generous, loyal and kindest kings to have been in existence,
As nature is the mortal form of God,
And trees, God’s emblem. We’re dependent on them.

And now I’ve grown up further,
As times summon me to achieve my deep desired goals in life.
I feel the paradise and its peace in my lungs in every breath,
But I now reside from my terrain far away.

And years pass by again,
And inevitable habit of time to pass by,
I have blackheads and I’m not much beautiful,
But I’ve fulfilled my desires,
I expect nothing anymore,
My life is now nothing more than mere sweet memories, pure as honey.

And now my heart is weighed down by a mighty regret,
A paperweight on the beautiful life I’ve lead,
And I desire of this paperweight to be free,
I must be on my way and find solace,
And go back in life’s race,
As I travel down those country lanes,
To see my good old tree.

My heart is racing wild and roaring with ecstacy,
As I dive into my profound memories of the apple tree,
The cool shade during my school days,
The homely and tame wind stirring up the atmosphere,
With its heavenly boon comforting every creature.

I hault my vehicle just before the lane,
I’ve decided to walk for I want to slowly observe to suffice my heart,
But everything has changed, nothing’s like before,
Looks like modernization’s hand has touched my neighborhood as well.

But modernization has an unknown paranoia along with other bright outcomes,
And the paranoia which has flooded my neighborhood,
Is the result of massacred trees.

My body has been electrocuted,
As my veins have gone numb as they refuse to bear this shock,
Not only has my most loved branched out soul died,
But my whole leafy neighborhood has been destroyed.

My eyes are wide open and I see no trace of the heaven I hoped,
But only a gigantic posh mall, a cinema hall, and other guilty facilities,
Guilty of the death of the souls, on whose provisions everyone has thrived,
This civilization created is a violation of nature.
A violation of God.

The source for paper, the source of your life,
Every fruit you’ve bitten, every ingested medicine,
Their source is being cut down.
Their minds crippled with paranoia, driven with utmost craze,
The world will fade into a foggy haze.

The branched out souls are shouting at top of their voice,
But we can’t hear their dying cry,
As in our ears, the call of nature
Is completely void.

But we still have time,
To hope for a better world and save our earth,
Let’s not have innocent blood on our hands,
Let’s save these vital trees,
Rather than just cutting them down with ease.

Let’s not destroy the source of life,
Else later we’ll pay the price,
Let’s not unjust evil towards our creators become our vice,
Let’s not write our own demise.


The merciless killing of innocent trees will only lead to inevitable environmental hazards.

Follow:

Instagram: #saveaarey, #saveaareyforest, #letmumbaibreath, AareyConservationGroup

Facebook: AareyConservationGroup

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