A house alone on a plateau of greens,
A dangerous tour amid the vast cement of ruralness,
And a nervous hand in a stifling box
~Or sometimes with a little tune of friendly laughter~
There sat a mind that’s floating and a heart that’s thrusting.

Under the austere sun blazing high
And the air that was sandy,
The orange hues were blending with the wind.
Greens, too, were present
And other colors perfecting a sight
of a scenic view.

There were six heads with dry and stiff hairs
And drained skins.

Those were the days, and they didn’t know it.
And only after those days did they realize
That happiness was everywhere
That ~that~ was a favorite amongst other whereabouts
Where they wished:
Should this be the only livable life
Cause then they would not ever want to perish
Nor leave this point in time.

Yet, they were too high
And naive
And now all are missed.