LadyThoraGreensword

Season of drab and dreariness, that inspires John Keats to bless, poor students with his honey-suckles, with mellow marrows and bees' knuckles. In endless hours of toture wrought, with the intention of good to be taught, yet as the somnolent verses shift, the thoughts of students begin to drift... Who hath not seen such dreadful rhyme, that shows the passage of the time, as fruit ripens as it 'ough-ter', the innocent lambs are sent to the slaughter. The songs of Spring have been discovered, in a clammy cell, honey-covered. Alas! They cannot take the helm, as Autumn seems set to overwhelm!