Silver coat, and a thick sheen
Pillow molded with blessed dreams
Silhouette of a prince's regime
Silver bowls to feast, thoroughly rinsed and cleaned
Good boy gets what he please
Food soaked and drenched with proteins to sink his teeth
Heaven but not death for this dog's shed
Living backwards god, pure, no crossbred
Walking well-to-do prospects
Dog treats no object, snoozing under awnings
The grass is green, only in water his paws wet
Only pain when the rope tugs his neck
Looking up at Duke's face, with his crooked wince
Another bird flew away, something pray tell that he couldn't mince
Sharp jaws for dull days
Large facade and a collar to break
A collar to break, saw another dove, and he couldn't hold
Broke free from the grip of his dukes, broke in a bolt
Horns and squeals, screams and bliss
Wings spread, bird flew away in the wind's breath
His tongue dropped, felt his little dream amiss,
His dukes! couldn't hear his winded breath
Craned his neck, turned to the wreckage that burned
Duke mangled under a bent tesla deformed
A little whimper left his long snout
Duke crimped over, fat lady screaming a song loud
Silver stared blankly at his cracked frame
Felt a grubby hand trying to snatch his mane
Wrong animal, snarled his mandibles
A loop on a pole, hardly understandable
Silver feeling they had it out for me
Didn't have nobody left to vouch for me
Dodging and weaving through frantic streets
Teardrops lathered his cheeks
Avoiding hands trying to snatch at his fleece
Silver, glimmering through as fast as can be
A star falling down the hill
Found himself lost, with hunger he's filled
Used to chase a ball, couldn't hunt a squirrel
Gray fur like tree's gnarl, claws long and ill
To the bottom, to the bottom
Beast roaming the streets, hope long above him
Scruff going scruffy, soggy knots on his dark fleece
Legs wobbly, looking for garbage to eat
Used to rub him softly, now they stomp their feet
A stern "geeeEET!", and he'd softly recede
Little puppy all alone, times are fickle now
Try to find a little cover for when it drizzles down
Heard a whistle and Gray's eyes narrowed
Saw what looked like a broken scarecrow
Scraggly beard, waving a morsel
Poor folk, fading, hardly corporeal
Shared what he had, Gray sat at his feet
Eye's fade, pitter-pattering over the canopy