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The loneliest hill station
After leaving the last train of the night ;
at one of the most secluded
hill station of the world,
solitude comes to speaks
with our loneliness.
The emptiness removes
the veil from the face.
In this place, distinctive time ;
in any secret corner of the world ;
two or four ghosts that still alive.
Those who are timeless.


Like blushing wench ;
my stunned quiddity ;
unfurled it's eyes to
the mystical horizon.
The caliginous schmooze
of the night fascinated me.
In the most secluded
locus of the world ;
sterling quintessence
on the way to exodus.
Virtuous words seek
the warmth of the animus,
the verses of decent poetry
are closer to the delusion of colloquy.
Human emotions breathe,
the fulvous clouds of
violence and hatred,
move away in the lap
of the dark sky.
In the every particle of the soil ;
in the dew of grass ;
the heart becomes redolence,
spreads the aromatic smell.
The blue star trembles
in the tenderness ;
message of love spread in the air.
The eternal world humned,
warbled in the darkness.


In the dead of night ;
a mysterious train ;
pierce the abyss of darkness.
At one of the secluded
hill station of the world.
Commuters then all fell
into a deep sleep ;
the bell rung ;
the train left.


Wonder! the sleeping passengers
are all abroad and sleeping
inside that bizarre train.


© Dhruva