Saturday, 1 November 2025

Grandeur

The wind howls in angry protest for none can hear the breeze.. Pushing and shoving and hitting all in its way. Attuning every sense to its angry protests.. Tired of remaining invisible unseen. It twirls sheets of rain into whirlpools of mayhem.. Racing heartbeats witness this grandeur. What eyes can grasp only in aftermath.. Bending Nature to its will.. leaving glorious impressions of its physical presence.

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Percussionists

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