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Huddled in warm places to be; snuggled the warned of nature’s cruelty.

Troubled, cold winds and faces will freeze; doubled the thin traces of mortality.

Come hither now; don’t die old and hungry, so alive, yet cold and lonely.

The time of cold shall never grow old and always stay new to me; the time we bind in unity, against the blinding frigidity.


Built from the past in moderate numerology; wilted grass with spotted new ecology.

Come from the roots of embedded things; sprung up in groups to make up for the drudgery.

Now is the time to dust off the wings of the flea; find all you can muster in things luxury.

It calls to us in synchronicity; it charges butts with ingenuity in the cautious crutch of unity.


The highest top of the crop that chopped and hopped our energy; it drops a fire hot in spots from droughts of aplenty.

Prime of life and vine monotony; a fine aligned with the tines of harmony.

Now scurry while the flame is high inside the mighty; before the light becomes more nightly and the way might get too flighty.

The main addition to all the attraction of vacations to places in purity; sweat tastes like unity in places abet with stasis from activity.


All will come down to the awe of the fall into that what fattens us all equally; a caw from antiquity.

Stave the whole day to lay in the way of harvest’s delay; stay to save what we stock in the caves so all can belay our best knots in adversity.

The worst is yet to be, in times of falling leaves, in all their awesome beauty; of course that’s entirely a possibility from the courses of the other three, you will see previously.

 It’s the rush before siege in the ruts of earthen prestige; the cuts of all our steeds and the wants of all our needs all will come at once, impatiently in the fall of unity.

Ol’ part fifth by Fartfist

Published by Fartfist

I am personally a personal personality for a personable person using this persona.

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