Eating just to survive, not to die.

Hiding just to survive, not to be killed.

To some, I am predator. They do not dare look at me.

To some, I am prey, a meal worth chasing through the shadows 

In a place where you kill or get killed,

no laws abide here.

Survival becomes normal.

Death takes a step backward after eating.

So,

a beautiful bunny remains merciless before the grass,

Looking like a tiger ready to devour 

eating her fill without remorse

in the beautiful field.

She has a little one to feed.

But

she is being watched by a python.

I sigh.

Perhaps the grass thinks the same of me.

Perhaps the bunny does too.

Or am I just the grass,

watching, waiting,

hoping the bunny doesn't see me?

For everyone who has ever been prey,

and everyone who has ever been predator.

We are all just trying

to see tomorrow.

How does this feel to you?