Hush little Lila

Do you want them to hear?

You know we aren't to be about

A story you say?

Only to pass the time

Surely you jest and you doubt

I have one for you

Born from the hills we lie

And the spirits that hang on mark

Listen well my love

All who live here know

Of the things that live in the dark

Oh, little Lila

Do not cry so fraily

They cannot hurt you here

It's just a story

Of the beasts on yonder

Who cannot come over near

Why little Lila?

I'm not to be sure

It's been years since they've left their nest

Perhaps they died

Mayhaps they do not wonder

As they did before bearing their crest

Oh, my dear Lila!

How old you think of me

To remember the red cloth and gold

No this is a tale

Passed from mother to sons

Amongst fire when the air is cold

Now where does it start?

Yes, quite a long time ago

When the beasts were not so unknown

No one spoke of it

About them and theirs

But we all knew where which to go

We knew where they lived

I could guess they did as well

The forest was watched with keen

The tree's shadowed edge

Lived as our boundaries

As unspoken laws would deem

Well, how did we know?

Lila what a small one you are

Can't you sense the eyes pinned to you

A sense of hunters

Feeling the pray they stalk

For our kind is wholly un-new

Oh, little Lila

Do not fright at the trees

It is not they who ran us to death

They will not hurt you

They shelter our young

You Lila, and all of our rest

Now little youngling

Is there not a story to hear?

Or mayhaps we should head back home

We should be going

We aren't to be out and here

Not when the moon is set to atone

A short version?

Now surely you poke fun

Just what is a story without its tale?

A stalemate winter

Blanketed soft ice

The air muffled in haggard shale?

We are to be home

You chose now to speak sense

So I will forgive this slandered slight

Perhaps my Lila

I shall begin again

On another more younger night

Seen them my Lila?

You speak in the flesh

Not in this tribe nor one I know

We do not converse

'Well as we should ought

For the same tenor and flesh we don

With them my Lila?

I speak of us, our own

Not with those manner of beasts

Our only converse

With those pale langley things

Is on which and what we feast

Eat them my Lila?

You will surely never try!

You would be ill and swallow for days

We drink from the pets

They pin off in the pelts

The ones kept thin and out of the way

Not with ten suns set!

You shan't see them near Lila!

I acknowledge you do not understand

They are violent

Our space is with sound reason

You have no reason to converse with man

Hush little Lila

Do not cry so pettily

I see that is not how you meant it so

But man has no want

And we no deftly desire

To converse with the Chupacabra folk