It's months back in the heart of a only lake
Water was bubbly, bringing birds in cluster;
Days were steaming tea, spilling on the skin,
And they're thirsty, trying tirelessly to get water.
All of them goggled, guzzled in a snappy circle
Like chorus for a performance on the stage.
Those moments were emeralds for innocents,
As drought had drilled their streets with rage.
It's a life that's lost,  with their no sin and evil,
In the woods, and wandering had been achy,
And joys after despondency are sumptuous
Were in their minds, and now they're too tasty!