Shewolf did prefer to stalk in the twilight hour;
She'd drag some back to the lair, for all to devour,
It was matter of choice, not an obsession.
I viewed with my camera, that's my confession.
The blood soaked earth of the den smelled of recent death;
So many were here, who had taken their last breath,
This was just natural to the brood, as they slept.
One adolescent woke, around the cave it crept.
It was famished again, after just a few hours,
This endless hunger had stretched the Shewolf's powers,
The small furry beast slinked about the dark dank cave.
Shewolf had to kill again; She was the brood's slave.
Now She slept peaceful, soon She would have to arise.
Again it would mean, many more creatures demise.
The three adolescents would start to whine and cry.
She would teach them to kill, or at least She would try.
Life these days was basic, eat, sleep, and defecate.
They must kill for themselves quite soon, in full-blown spate.
The brood was now growing and beginning to learn.
Survival these days was something they had to earn.
Life went on, every night continued much the same.
Shewolf would soon be leaving before the floods came.
The brood growing quickly, they were almost full grown.
They would be by themselves, and of this they'd bemoan.
The wind was now rising, the rain starting to pour.
They now watched an eagle, as above it did soar.
The cave kept them dry while they peered out from within.
The rain came unabated, much to their chagrin.
Shewolf could sense it was time to leave this small band.
Again She would kill and feed without their demand.
They could sense her leaving, but wanted a small snack.
All of the forest creatures knew, Shewolf is back.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem
Ok, I’ll bite. What’s all this about the Wolf? Are you writing an epic on a real wolf? Try mine – the Protagonist – Adeline