The Damned Circus Painted In Oil - Part 3, The Hound of God

The Beast, he is a complex soul
Drowning in his sense of sin.
The Hound of God who sneers at wolves
Shrieking in the cacophony of his leonine rage
Whispering in the chorus of his equine lament.
The Beast, a master of the Circus animals he despise
Master of the lives he destroyed,
Now tormented by the bestial, rotten dead eyes.
The Beast he is a holy man
The hand of God, whose career of crime
Survived unhindered for unrecorded time,
Passing out the unspoken judgement
Received in dreams he believed God sent.

His mission from God was given so early
When his father, a priest,
Was found being too kind to abandoned boys,
But cursing his own son, burning his toys.
Fire his first tool, true friend and mentor
Showed him his inner soul, his murder centre
and spoke to him in God’s own voice
Denouncing the fathers love of touching boys.

That night his father did burn
His church, his soul and sinful yearn
As shadows did flee,
and stumble through leaves
The Beast, with his name did not turn,
Did not flee, did not weep, just left
Never to return.
For countless years the Hound did howl
His voice descending to a violent growl
Sought out sin, hunted it down
And snatched the veil from forgiveness’ crown,
Tore out every sinner’s soul
And sent them screaming to the burning halls of some renown,

He slept beneath the trees,
Rested on boughs, rapped in weeds.
He slept in forests, safe from man
Where sin and evil could not stir.
He slept like a dog, whether by day
or by night,
He slept like a dog, whenever he felt
everything was all right,
He slept like a dog, and awoke with a start.

The darkness it laughed,
The darkness it mocked.
The darkness, it sang with the innocence of a child
it’s voice so fair sounding young and wild,
It’s voice so cruel, so dark, reviled.
When finally the laughter revealed it’s face
The Beast recoiled from the innocence
He felt unwelcome, unwanted, in disgrace.
But never again would he see the evil
the darkness these girls held within,
Such evil and sin that terror filled his soul,
at the sight of their eyes,
and the sound of their cries,
as he crushed their throats.

He was never the same again,
For life he gained a new disdain.
Found dead the next day
Guts burnt and on display,
head shot through,
Tracks leading away.

The Damned Circus Painted In Oil - Part 3, The Hound of God


Coventry, United Kingdom

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Artist's Description

I’m not sure about this one



Artwork Comments

  • Psyche
  • Heath30
  • Psyche
  • sleightflow
  • Medusa
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