The wind, the wind, say I to myself,
Convinced that the groaning is nothing else,
Than a playful gust on the balcony;
The moving shadows allowance of its decree.

For I am no stranger to the faeries of wind,
I've been dined and wined and magic-a-spin.
They come and they go: we mean the other no harm,
We trade feathers with shells and a song for a charm.

But oh if that groan be something other,
With no reason, no soul, no room to barter,
Let my mind not wander lest it take form
Of bleached bones, long teeth, oozing, hell born.

Pray that the lamp that keeps darkness at bay
Gives me strength to meet the monster midway.
Be my courage bright, skill at arms of youth,
I'll burn and I'll blaze and triumph in truth.

I'll send it from this world to the ether beyond
Where it can cause no more harm, fear be-gone!
I'll come back a hero, it'd be grand although,
I'd prefer it to just be wind-a-blow.

B.B: StP writting challenge for Monsters. And also because I know how much Felicia likes poems that rhyme.