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The monsters from the depths of human imagination,
in their infancy they claw with numb talons
on the walls of our understanding.

Reaching, growling,
drooling, howling,
tongues flashing like lightnings.

Bewildered eyes not gripping the reality of existance,
the idea of sight and blurry visions.
Limbo some say, where these monstrous creatures dwell,
made semireal by the tales we tell our sons and daughters.
Haunting their closets and breathing loudly under their beds.

Fur and scales
horns and fangs
tails and wings
growing on them as we tell them to.
In our stories they are slain, lying bloody in their remains.
In our minds heroes are forgotten, warriors deeds fade away.
But the monsters we created with our imagination.
The creatures they stay.