A Cryptid Campfire Tale
An unexpected visitor drops by
Author’s Note — I created this poem with the help of AI. This one took a while because I experimented with different characters. I hope you enjoy it. Feel free to let me know your thoughts!
In the woods where the moonlight plays,
Cryptids gathered in the haze.
Around a fire, so warm and bright,
They shared their tales deep into the night.
Bigfoot laughed, sharing jerky and tea,
While Mothman fluttered, wild and free.
Nessie splashed in a nearby stream,
Enjoying the night, living the dream.
Jersey Devil with a sly, cheeky grin,
Told tales of the towns he’d been in.
Chupacabra, with eyes agleam,
Spoke of nights when livestock scream.
Then from the shadows, silent and dread,
A figure emerged, filling hearts with lead.
A Wendigo, with a chilling air,
Joined the circle, its gaze a snare.
“I’ve roamed the north, where cold winds wail,
Hunting, haunting, on every trail.
I’ve come to share, in this rare delight,
A night of stories, ‘neath the moonlight.”
The cryptids welcomed their ghastly peer,
Fascinated by the tales of fear.
The Wendigo, with a voice that froze,
Spoke of the darkness, and the paths it chose.
As the night deepened, the fire’s glow dimmed,
The Wendigo’s eyes, they brightly brimmed.
With a sudden gust, cold and swift,
It whispered of a curse, its voice a gift.
The fire flickered, then turned to ice,
The Wendigo’s laughter, a cold vice.
“Be wary of the woods, so deep and stark,
For I roam them, leaving my mark.”
The cryptids shivered, not from cold alone,
But from the fear, into their bones sown.
The night had shifted, from warmth to fear,
Their gathering silenced, as dawn drew near.
In the woods where the moonlight once danced,
Silence reigned, as if entranced.
The cryptids vanished, into the night,
Leaving the Wendigo, basking in its plight.
In the world of cryptids, shadows loom,
And in their stories, darkness blooms.
Beware the woods, and what lies within,
For amongst the tales, nightmares begin.
