Ode to the Continual Perish

An Ode

I believe a continual perish occurs
Each night, before I even have thoughts of sleep
A dog is born
Next door
Within the hour the dog lives out his life
And begins
What sounds like
A slow
torturous
death
While I try to lightly enter sleep
He loudly enters death
Or so it seems
He increases the volume
As I slip closer to dreaming
And then out of dreaming
To think these thoughts:
An ode
To the continual perish
of the next door phoenix of the dogs