Extempore

Every age has its monsters,
Dragon-like or hydra-headed

Draped in human skin,
In guise of a man or a woman

Falsehoods in common mind,
Sweet favours and promises

Sugar-tongued and transparent,
Not hunch-backed nor ugly

But Chimera-like,
Carried on shoulders of the wise

Able to withstand sunlight,
With a genuine mirror image

There is no shame nor doubt,
Neither in the carried nor carriers

Yet shattered and broken,
In the presence of moonlight

Though replicate like men,
In broods and in great number

In successive generations
They bear no resemblance to their elders

Nor quite genuine in hindsight,
But like chameoleons on their day

Though every age has had its laugh,
It's always been bit too late.