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Neha Srivastava Dec 2017
Love me like the moon loves the earth
Illuminate me in the darkest hours henceforth
Neha Srivastava Dec 2017
I am my curves
I am also the fire raging through my nerves

Waiting for my shining armour
Sometimes I chose to be the one

Every month I bleed real blood
For you I could be soft as a rose bud

I love my freedom
I could give birth to next generation

I am the words of your poetry
I get paint on your canvas so quietly
I am half of your society
I am worshipped as your diety

So Tell me whats causing this ambiguity
Give me Equality
Cheers to Womanhood
Neha Srivastava Dec 2017
Every morning ,throughout the year
I hear demons in my head shouting loud around my ear
Lacing me with antagonism
drowning me into deep rooted negativism
I feel trapped in their grip
as they keep Pushing me to darkest corners like an adandoned ship
I lie on my bed unwanted and unheard
My mind is half asleep and my eyes are blurred
They made way through me for reasons unknown
It seemed easy to make them one of my own
Eyes half asleep ,I see a gleam of light
All I know is to fight with all my might
Exhausted as I manage to Chain the monster within me
Not afraid of the roars, I'll make them bend down their knees
This fight was mine , though the Battle is to be won
Neha Srivastava Dec 2017
I have based my existence on pure simple belief
Let it be no victories
Just toasts to life
Neha Srivastava Dec 2017
Life is transient and brief
So is your pain and grief
For something so momentary and fragile
Ruining yourself is so futile
Open the cage of your heart
where the grief has been locked and trapped
Set it free and let it flight high
Allow it to meet you eye on eye
Let it be with you like a tangent
This is the way to keep it abandoned
Grief , Transient , Pain , love
Neha Srivastava Dec 2017
For me words are not only meant to be read
It is to be enormously felt
Washing away all the barriers, it reaches inside me like a flood
I discover my new self as it mingles with my blood.
Neha Srivastava Dec 2017
You might not know the real me
The One you see and roams free
and the other whom you read locked in my poetry
I am a soothing breeze when heard
I could be a volcano in words
Gentle as a dewdrop on your window in a beautiful winter morning
I am the storm trapped in my pages rumbling and alarming.
Flip in the pages once ready for the thunder storm and fire flashes
You'll meet the whole of me once this dust settles.
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