Arrows can stab anytime on my back. <br />I run hard with my green soul. <br />No one gave me a shelter. <br />I saw the door of a cave was opened. <br />I leapt forward cautiously. <br />And accepted an outroar. <br />I became his prey.<br /><br />VIPINS PUTHOORAN<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/born-to-be-prey/
