Prince

A mangled, half eaten frog,

It’s mouth and eyes open,

Ready to leap and killed.

By the bark of the tree,

In the mangy grass,

Stood the shadow,

In the pouring rain,

Shielding it’s eyes,

From the brightly shining sun.

Cymbals and tambourines,

Knocked heavily above,

As the ant-troops marched.

Dotted with water,

Bathed with light,

Specks of blood,

Shards of bone,

Splat! on the dirt.

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Incoherence

Tired, broken, lonely.

Demons in the mind.

Ugly dance of chatter,

Needles in the eyes,

Wine in the spine.

Dreams of bare bones,

Sinister, frightening.

Six feet under, motionless,

Lies a thought of sunshine.

Minutes, hours, days,

Rainbows turn black.

Traffic and tall buildings,

Smells of the netherworld.

In this monstrosity of May,

There is a rumble of rain.