They say that monsters do not exist

Recall the noises that you hear
each tiresome night as you disappear
you lay there resting half a sleep
and something hovers out of reach
the darkness gathers all around
you dare not move or make a sound
the breath you hold is getting stale
yet you struggle to not exhale
cold air slides above the ground
“Is this the night the moon is round?”
for if it is a fearsome beast
it should find somewhere else to feast
rage or fear wells up inside
you know that you can no longer hide
you jump and hope to startle it
a spastic leap, a jerking fit
yet nothings there or now it’s gone
your night of rest is thus postponed
they say that monsters do not exist
yet still the rumors do persist