The girl who cried wolf sits with a smug grin,
not feeling the leaches biting into her aging skin.
leeches covet only the freshest of flesh,
dropping back into the murk when they have their fill.
The girl who cried wolf has her precious space,
and will use it to hurt and her own soul disgrace.
When the wolves circle and slowly rip off her flesh
her final fate to die alone, in her own woven mesh.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
final fate of the girl is pathetic but a nice poem