In murky, brackish pits, shadowed by drooping trees,
there slithers in the mud what never man may see,
or else, too late, the water breaks, and then it’s death
which eyes unveil unerringly. Down there no breath
where it returns dragging its victim far below,
and so it is only victims shall ever know
what hides within the swamp. Then ignorant we live,
but fearful all the same else Monster knowledge give.
What Hides Within the Swamp?
Tale Told 