The strange hill.
Slowly, the wind danced in circles,
greeting the clouds above us,
a lonely tree stood by our
side, bemocking this transcendental
dance with its resilient antics,
the world around us had
diminished.
An eerie, misty wind did its rounds,
talking to the lonely tree, blowing
past us tauntingly, it was vexing
to have to admit that we were scared,
an occasional rustle down the slope,
dangling random sounds that shook us from the spine,
adverting fear, and causing thrill
in us, unwelcome beings.
Looking out to the vast expanse of the city,
decorated with brazen midnight lights,
dancing in patterns of a
kaleidoscopic red and blue
and green and orange,
the horizon presented us
with a malevolent fire, conjured
by this supernal event.
A moth-eaten chair lay
at a distance in the courtyard, of
an old, abandoned house.
moonlight shone on this dilapidated structure,
shining in through the broken glass
and the occasional crevices,
the structure beamed shamelessly
and sprung back to life.
This old building too, was welcome to this preternatural party.
We walked back dismayed and shook,
from the shuddery sound
that emanated
from the old house.
making
our way down the slopes,
of this hill, where only the chosen were allowed,
making our way down past
the swirling plants which seemed full of life,
One last look at the festive celebrations
uphill
and we were gone,
From the place we never belonged to.
greeting the clouds above us,
a lonely tree stood by our
side, bemocking this transcendental
dance with its resilient antics,
the world around us had
diminished.
An eerie, misty wind did its rounds,
talking to the lonely tree, blowing
past us tauntingly, it was vexing
to have to admit that we were scared,
an occasional rustle down the slope,
dangling random sounds that shook us from the spine,
adverting fear, and causing thrill
in us, unwelcome beings.
Looking out to the vast expanse of the city,
decorated with brazen midnight lights,
dancing in patterns of a
kaleidoscopic red and blue
and green and orange,
the horizon presented us
with a malevolent fire, conjured
by this supernal event.
A moth-eaten chair lay
at a distance in the courtyard, of
an old, abandoned house.
moonlight shone on this dilapidated structure,
shining in through the broken glass
and the occasional crevices,
the structure beamed shamelessly
and sprung back to life.
This old building too, was welcome to this preternatural party.
We walked back dismayed and shook,
from the shuddery sound
that emanated
from the old house.
making
our way down the slopes,
of this hill, where only the chosen were allowed,
making our way down past
the swirling plants which seemed full of life,
One last look at the festive celebrations
uphill
and we were gone,
From the place we never belonged to.
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