Abiding with nature's stipulations, Winter faithfully trails Autumn. Conforming to what has been their obligation since time immemorial, most leaves with away to the call of Fall. All, except a few. Some which determinedly defy age-old conditioning and hang on, clinging on with all their might to the frosting trees, the loving homes where they were once welcome. With no inkling of awareness about if and when Winter will end at all, they hang on - for whom? The thoughts that make up this book are also similar leaves hanging on after the Autumn - seeds of mentation left behind long after he mind has been beaten to numbness... Words that do not want to wither away despite all efforts to erase them.