Somewhere in the clouded annals of one’s mind, 

lies unrefined stories, 

of undefined memories, 

telled by a tired teetering mumbling frog.

A single soul, 

silently resting,

Content to be slightly forlorn.

At shivering night,

 when the lake is a mirror,

Accompanied by the crackling warmth of a fire,

Sat a voiceless fish among familiar voices,

Hungered and enthralled from a new experience.

A numbing euphoric piece of memory,

To be with such blasting company.

Basking in the dark of night,

Casts such liquid scenery.

Ahead, over the hills

Comes the sound of two clicks,

A message from a friend,

With a presence too nice.

Fallen once, will it fall again?

Will the wound be oh so big to treat and mend?

As the drum falls and rolls down the hill,

My eyes are caught by that beaming bright grin.

Memories unkindled,
From times of yore.

The frog struggles,

Were they real or were they fake?

Only lingering feelings remain.
Born bare envision.

A convoluted mind or was it pretend?

It does not elaborate.

For it has found a new hole,

To sleep in and forget.