Leap Frog Pond
There on Leap Frog Pond,
Dusky days drawn on each palm frond -
Now, dark sways in bloom decay.
For ever since the green invasion,
Pristine pools puddle-bog mutation.
Perturbing, direly disturbing, silencing,
The croaks and froaks of the bog frogs.
Now Dumpclog the Defiler,
With three legs, lone eye -
The Mutant monster of mankind,
Sifts through the smog,
Feeds on frogs of the bog. And
Slogs sick hands,
Spreading slime seeds through
The sludge swamp.
Decay growth with each day,
As The Defiler draws full power,
And the festering sickly seeds,
Corrupt growth-birthed death,
Leaving life with no breathe -
And now not a single flower.
So the frogs of the bog,
Swamped were they,
Soon withered and slippered away,
'Til no life crept in sight
But only sludge bugs,
The Mutant blight.
There on Leap Frog Pond -
A pond with no frog songs.