The loyal hound

He stood his ground

 

Waiting for his master

Hoping he'd rush to get home faster

 

The three collective heads

Had torn the death god's couch to shreds

 

A punishment they did await

The severity of it, left up to the three fates

 

The time it did indeed drag

Their tail would no longer wag

 

Shame was felt in every bone

Master's glare would be hard as stone

 

And suddenly a knock was heard

Into action they were spurred

 

Rushing towards the door

The hound's expression seemed to soar

 

But once their master noticed the mess

The hound indeed felt quite distressed