Unique Prey

Bullet shots perforating the warmest coat,
Red stains spilling through the furry and soft white canvas,
Creating a deadly piece of art.
Last panting breaths and disheartening moans,
Ensemble of curses recited in a foreign language for the hunter,
But don’t we all feel like a hunted white tiger at some point in our lives?

Unique species, the white tiger, being torn apart from its armor,
Its only source of warmth available in the freezing winter,
Its only friend in the survival days,
Now, being worn by a fancy woman,
Whose compassion, is nowhere to be found.

Unique each one of ourselves, being destroyed by the meanest words
Recited from those who attempt to kill our souls,
Spending everyday chasing others with their verbal swords, 
They, shattering the walls, that building took so long,
Making their prey doubt about life’s worth.

It’s ironic, we kill what is beautiful,
Only focusing on our selfish selves,
Not even wondering how the other feels or has to say,
Like the white tiger, everyone’s goal is to survive each and every day,
Poor are those souls who are chosen as the prey.