She was a force that dwelled
in darkness, far away from God,
a pool of syrup, red and self-propelled
announced her presence, which was somehow odd,
white, bony fingers grasped carotid flesh
and squeezed as if to end life of itself,
new blood ran down in rivulets, its odor fresh
it covered all of life, and chased away the elf.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
People don't realize elves exist in the real world and most of them aren't very friendly.