Monsters — we name them.
The beasts in the wild, the cold-eyed murderer,
the ones whose faces do not smile back.
Those who seem too harsh, too cruel,
too unlike us.
But we forget —
the true monsters lie within.
Lurking, waiting
in the shadowed corners of our hearts,
where our truest selves live,
silent and unseen.
We are a crowd of monsters,
masked by civility,
oblivious to our own reflections
yet quick to judge the cracks in others.
We speak of love with smooth lips
but rarely live it with open hands.
Hatred, contempt —
they bloom behind painted smiles,
while selfish desires cloud our thoughts.
Even the Holy Book whispers truth:
"The heart of man is deceitful above all things,
and desperately wicked — who can know it?"
We try to cover that darkness,
but it spills —
in words, in silence,
in every action we think goes unnoticed.
To be flawed is human,
to strive for better is divine.
But the deadliest monsters
are those who never look inward,
who wear ignorance like a crown
and call it virtue.
Yes —
Monsters, not just in the shadows.
But here.
Among us.
Within us.
A crowd of monsters,
wearing smiles.