The Mayhem stirring in my poor throbbing head

Beating, bashing, smashing..
this drug splashed around my insides..
corroding pain is its work to do..
failed by means and circumstance all these noons..

behind foggy, steamy panes of glass i write..
neatly typed words, a bloody task..
soothing rubs for my eyes are sore..
Damn this throat, a chore, a whore..

Sahara endures some sweltering heat..
where on earth's the floor, my paw..
burning me with your acidic tongues..
Rain, this few, you selfish fool..

remove this flint of terrible hate..
save my craze with amazing grace..
by this briar of roses and thorns..
Cursed be gone, you false, sly scorn..

The grey kitty cat

to the sight i will never forget..

chasing after butterflies..
licking at the moon..
rolling about in green grass..
flicking at playful fingers..

a purr too soft..
the house so empty..
weeds grew in a matter of days..
food available no more in dishes..

hunger strikes slowly..
the light matted fur clumps..
sewages provide shelter..
dirty drain water taste poisoned..

the little kitty cat stood dizzily by the road..
mewing gingerly at another kitty cat across the traffic..
seeing smiling flowers bloom and butterflies join in flight..
little grey decides to go over to play..

before the sudden darkness..
a tinge of hurt and sky..
what was heard was smashing flesh..
of black, of red, of white..

poor little kitty cat..
its soul fled instantly from the ugly carcass..
but thankfully it's no longer on the pitiful side of the road..
it's somewhere heavenly, where little kitty cats roamed in gold..

Thunderclaps

startled shock by the loudness..
my messy head arose from the mountains of notes..
another flash of bright sent me jolting with static..
around me was the sullen grey..

a sudden beep from the white screen before me..
forty-six messages blinking orange..
a chaotic flood of words and numbers..
i slammed the laptop shut..

silently treading across puddles..
the living room was quiet and still..
the lightning shouted at the thunder outside..
cursing for him to keep his noise down..

the buildings seem so faraway today..
i can only make out blurry white silhouettes..
smouldered, faded, jaded..
the bleak blood swam like water down drains..

the thunder just shouted again in return..
their claps were made from anger..
the forests are happy with hunger..
quenching their fires with vigour..