there was a girl who cried wolf;
it echoes from the hollows of crevices
until it inevitably comes back to her --
it only welcomes her with silence.
and i stand there and watch
as she continues to cry wolf.
the river -
gushing, flowing, full of life -
it stops to listen to her wishes.
the wind -
withdraws from crafting a tempest
and stills.
planted in my own roots,
i sit and hear her howls of desperation.
now, sans woe bellows
from her sunken cheeks,
frail body clad in loneliness.
a ghost of a smile
marrs her rose-colored face.
"liberated," she said, "i wish to be liberated."
silence comes back to greet her.
