Bloodhound Fantasy fiction stories Short Story

The Nameless Bloodhound


He was blind because He held the staff

He was cursed because He held the staff

He wandered because He held the staff

He devoured the souls of men because he held the staff

He thought an end will never come to his torture

Since he held the staff,

Casted out he met a savior because he held the staff

The staff was his purpose Because he held no other thing

His savior gave him a purpose, For his existence

For a bloodhound’s oath is pure, And his carnage was real

When can I walk a plank and believe

I’ve achieved it all, I’ve sealed a fate,

That never should have been In the first place

Called out woes Only forgotten

But never remembered

Judged men in the face of despair

But forsaken hope In the halls of danger

And a mirage of choices

When will I walk a plank and feel like

my Destiny is mine, When Destiny forsakes

Even the best of us

Does man make his own Destiny

Or is it Destiny that makes the man

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