A perfect mimic
Always lying low.

A discreet shadow
Melding with the wall.

A silent nothing
Hidden in the corner.

A piece of driftwood
Going with the flow.

A perfect grey existence
Living in the safe zone.

Broken,
Shattered,
Scattered,
With a single blow.

A life not lived,
Turned feral.

A single low growl
Is all you hear
Before it goes
For your throat.