The fearsome hounds in dark gave chase,
As a man in a cloak ran a wind graced pace,
Under the long bough of the forest maze,
The man longed for the moon's white face.

What made him accept this futile task?
That involved this gold gravened flask,
Was money all that he ever asked?
Or was he seeking for glory's musk.

Why did he not heed the local tale?
Told over glasses of frothy ale,
'Never disturb the buried flask,' they tell,
'For it keeps the banished from this dale.'

But he scorned it as local superstition,
And continued with his investigation,
Blessed with the University's generous donation,
Began the work despite rampant demonstration.

Each day a grave they unearth,
Each day his colleagues were filled with mirth,
True were the myths told long before his birth,
For here the hounds became dearth.

Than came the day they found the flask,
Such an ancient thing sparkling without rust,
In delight to the laboratory they march,
Heedless of the stirrings beyond the marble arch.

When darkness came than horror reign,
For while they reveled in their intellectual campaign,
The ancient graves birthed the unspoken bane,
Barred for centuries by the spells of the sane.

An old man who they thought to be mad,
Came to their conference and there he said,
'You fools who released that which is bad,
Now your life has been poised to be raid.'

They laughed him off,
And his words did they scoff,
'Pathetic are the uneducated oft,
Such superstition only their mind can solve.'

But doubt did they later that night,
As the hounds hammered the wall with great might,
Blood once unseen now flowed bright,
From the hollow cavities once hidden from sight.

The man in fear grabbed the flask,
And held on it like a sacred task,
As his colleagues fell like broken husk,
He fled to the night born from dusk.

Either way it no longer matter,
For behind him the hounds pound closer,
For the flask unearth has broken their fetter,
And from their graves they are free to wander.

The flask and man they seek to destroy,
As the flask binds them to their unearthly toil,
Never must the flask be reburied in bloodied soil,
For once again will they be snared in magic's coil!

The man cried to heaven and prayed,
'Just one miracle!!' so he said,
And answered it seem as an engine blared,
As a car ram the hounds without care.

'Bring the flask to the old well shaft,
For only there can the hounds be chaff,
And do not think it to be ignorant daft,
For your curiosity has brought pain enough.'

The man in surprise turned around,
And behind him cars and guns abound,
The old man called mad now have found,
A way to prove his words once thought unsound.

'We will keep the hounds at bay,
Now hurry and do not delay!!'
The old man turned as bullets spray,
At the ancient hounds so fay.

The man ran down the track,
And cursed himself for being so crass,
For because of him safety the town lack,
And the people now have to clean up his mess.

He found the shaft all right,
Under the moonlight so bright,
Descended did he with clumsy flight,
Down the tunnel devoid of light.

The water reached him waist deep,
As he released the flask for the water to keep,
He turned up and viewed the walls so steep,
And ascended with tenuous, slippery grip.

Engines roar gunfire flash,
As the snarl of hounds in darkness lash,
The man paled to stricken ash,
As his body was riddled with gash.

For the hounds now filled the shaft,
And here they let loose their wrath,
'Save me!!' the man's voice muff,
As bright blood mixed with fur so scruff.

The old man standing above cried,
'Let the fire now burn bright!!'
Petrol cans exploded into furious light,
And were flung down beyond sight.

The shaft collapsed with a plume of dust,
Together with the man doomed by intellectual lust,
The bane let loose through curiosity so vast,
Now is sealed and buried fast.

The people mourned and reveled in their deception,
Of a man who ignorantly did a transgression,
Though they would rather another solution,
Only the blood of a deceived binds the corruption.

'Pity the soul of the man,' they sang,
'For now he guards forever the ancient bane,
Until another releases him from his stand,
There he will be till sea consumes land.'

As morning dawned across the land,
Now free once again from this ancient bane,
The people headed down the dusty lane,
This night's tale now only told over ale.