Creaky stairs, voices in the dark.

So many monsters I don’t know where to start. 

Ghosts in your head, wishing you were dead. 

All monsters are our own creation.

Our worries and fears are given sheets.

Ridding them would be a feat

Glowing eyes, making little ones cry,

Hiding, begging for dawn to come.

Knowing that for when it comes,

The darkness is gone,

 Till the voices return.