A blundering quadriped of staggering enormity
crashes through the remnants of a forest fire.
Dirty soot blows on a rancid breeze
high thin notes of blackened fauna permeates the air
the milky orbs of light catchers are sheathed in velvet
held shut by silver staples struck down by rusty hammers
of the sledge variety
Sluggish steps drag through crackling mud
thunderous echoes resound over purple mountains
of refuse and rubbish, candy wrappers and old shoes
smelling of lost love, a mangy cur searching for home
tracing wandering circles about a verdant meadow
the howl to the moon is broken by return calls
as a wounded alpha male wastes away
abandoned by his pride and joy
they push on, under the shadow of the giant
and come upon a little burg
filled with scurrying little grey men
their throats ripped away from their hands
their blood runs yellow
as the charred forest sways.