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Jan 2016 · 1.6k
Cure To My Menstrual Strain
Avantika Chopra Jan 2016
Every month, when I would have my four days of torture, I would call him on the first day and cry.
I would crib my heart out and curse every ******* cell that cramped.
Even though we were miles apart, his voice would pacify the pain, his words would calm me down and all I ever felt was love.
He was the cure to my Menstrual strain.
Jan 2016 · 287
Untitled
Avantika Chopra Jan 2016
You remind me of too many bad dreams.
Dec 2015 · 380
The Reward !
Avantika Chopra Dec 2015
Deep down she felt the pain,
breaking the path she felt the shame.
He said he loved her beautiful smile,
then why today did he make her cry?
He had promised that their love would last,
a beautiful world together they will cast.
He asked her to meet tonight,
at an hour that didn’t seem right.
She didn’t doubt for all she cared,
he was the man of her share.
She reached the place unprepared,
they pounced on her undeclared.
Tearing her soul from within,
they took turns with a grin.
She saw her man from a distance,
a man without guilt or resistance.
He looked back at her with a smile,
the one she would never forget all her life.
Others left her when they were done,
ruining her life for their little fun.
She lied there like a helpless corpse,
howling about the fateful curse.
He walked towards her after the assault,
and spat on her like it was her fault.
She dodged the spit and grabbed a stone,
and threw it with all the strength.
Striking his head she made him bleed,
her unexpected success gave her the lead.
Forgetting her pain she pushed him down,
and grabbing a brick smashed the smiling clown.
She ran from him, the evil soul,
Giving him the reward he really deserved.
Dec 2015 · 306
The Touch !
Avantika Chopra Dec 2015
She ran to him with a happy burst,
He pressed himself with a rough ******.
She jumped in his arms for the warmth she adored,
He grasped her with his monstrous force.
Her eyes chirped with enchanting laughter,
His mouth curved to a sinister smirk.
She touched him with pure innocence,
He cupped her with dire lust.
He was her favorite man,
And She, his favorite toy.
Dec 2015 · 485
Misplaced Identity !
Avantika Chopra Dec 2015
The man I am, they are not meant to see,
A being that is as deceptive as one can be.
With a saint exterior I walk the paths, touching each being with my corrupt heart.
They look at me with awe in their eyes, faith that denies rationality of any kind.
They look at me time and again to cherish the blessing I showers on them.
This blessing I give is not for free, the green that fills my endless greed.
I am not the holy man they think me to be. Not that I regret the status I receive.
I enjoy the faith they have in me, for they have sold their souls to me,
A man they think is close to god, little do they know of my wrath.
I gamble, I cheat and I worship infidelity.
Yet all they do is worship me.
Dec 2015 · 310
When I wrote About Love !
Avantika Chopra Dec 2015
She killed him out of love, they said.
Her heart sank as she lowered her child in the water tub.
Seeing him suffocate, she dropped a tear.
Freeing him from pain.
The award he got for being a special kid.
Dec 2015 · 390
The Holy Kind !
Avantika Chopra Dec 2015
With each moment passing by
I wonder where the truth hides,
in the stormy seas or the dark lands
or the deep black wandering sky.
Each step i take to move ahead,
I am pulled back to a deeper shed,
each step I take to break free,
I am drowned in the despair sea,
The more I try, the more I fail
evil faith behind my tail
that guides me through the lonely paths
leading to a deeper wrath.
Oh where is the holy land,
the one that frees our kind,
I wonder where the truth hides,
in the stormy seas or the dark lands,
or the black wandering sky.
Waking to the morning sun,
the light I see has just begun,
but the darkness in me still prevails
Wonder which evil it hails.
Creating a heavy dream,
the soul in me is wishful it seems
searching for the black hole
to escape the one it already holds.
Oh where is the holy sky,
the one that frees our kind
i wonder where the truth hides,
in the stormy seas or the dark lands,
or the black wandering sky.
The forming mist blocks my view,
bringing out the inner fear.
The flowing stream creates a hue
of different palettes together.The rounded pebbles recite a story,
each of it’s own journey.
travelling along the moving path
urging to be found.
Oh where is the holy sea,
the one that frees our kind
I wonder where the truth hides,
in the stormy seas or the dark lands,
or the black wandering sky.
Oh Free me lord from this weeping soul,
the one that i behold.
Uplift me to the holy world,
that i was once told.
Take me to the holy sea, the holy land
and the wandering sky,
that will take me in and heal me through,
Me, the human kind.

— The End —