My father has entered the hovel,
the cave of fantasies,
the domicile of felicity,
the dwelling of pretty creatures.
He opens the basement door
to soothe the monstrosities of the past,
the whispers of sorrow,
the yellings of disdain.
Taking a lump of clay,
he builds a giant
to guard me,
to appease me
whenever I feel scared.
He kisses my forehead
and wishes me sweet dreams
as he opens the door
to go out in the forest.