Beneath the moon the lake lies quietly.
The trees protect it from the slightest breeze
and yet the waters move uneasily.
Disturbed by something which I cannot see.
It could be the old legends told are true.
My small campfire is burning very low.
I feed it quickly with a log or two
and I draw comfort from its cheerful glow.
I tell myself there is nothing to fear
but chills are running up and down my spine.
I wish that I was very far from here.
Assailed by fears that I canít define.
I hear the waters lapping at the shore.
I strain my eyes but see no reason why.
Iíve never been so terrified before.
I pull my self together and I try.
Although I must confess without success.
To banish from my mind these groundless fears.
but find I am unable to suppress.
Atavistic memories left behind.
From when my ancestors were hunted by
Predators seeking for prey by night.
Subconsciously I know the reason why
my body is prepared for fight or flight.
I hesitate until it is too late.
The ancient legends have proved to be true.
Thereís nothing I can do to change my fate.
I will die here as I am meant to do.
When morning breaks thereís nothing left to see.
Bar for a dead campfire and an empty tent
What happened will remain a mystery
one more unexplained incident.
Beneath the sun the quiet lake reflects
stray shafts of sunshine looking innocent.
There seems to be no reason to suspect
The lake of any murderous intent.
Its only when the moon is shining bright.
The creatures from the lake come forth to prey,
on unsuspecting humans through the night.
You are quite safe to visit here by day.
I chose to disbelieve what I had heard
For disbelief I paid the final price.
I thought the ancient legends were absurd.
How could a lake demand a sacrifice?