Photo Courtesy : Me, myself and Himanshu [I clicked it...grrrr..!] through the hills under the lush green canopies a light wind blows carrying sounds profound chilly at times with the dry leaves in a vortex crumpling under its force the memories of yore they have tales to tell into the unknown before they soar warm at times dry n scalding punishing one and all reminding of the crimes tortures forsaken made to self and others the vows broken and then it stops vanishing in the hills below those canopies that are almost brown now weathering the cold and dry still standing there though reminding the wind that it also has limits unseen forces control its existence A unknown act of good riddance
Trotting on, a regal symphony. Mighty yawn, teeth glowering ominously. That aberrated bark, are my Pug Marks!