One thing I really enjoy in stories is the idea of a monster, but no really knows what it really is. Just that it's there and waiting.
In a cave there dwells a beast,
Not far from here they say.
It hides in shadow until day has ceased,
And darkness has its way.
It roams the countryside at night,
Hunting hungry for its prey.
None dare challenge it with fight,
Its name? Who can say?
For none have lived to tell the tale,
When courage gave words to ask.
No brave souls have e're prevailed,
When challenged with the task.
They only know it sleeps down there,
In its cave when the sun hangs high.
Sharp-clawed, perhaps, and long of hair,
With blood-red hue in eye.
We can only guess and wonder,
At the full shape of its guise.
And until the beast is sundered,
Trade in tavern-tales and lies.
