Our dead

When our dead
stand with there dead
Outside our little corner
Waiting for verdict.
Do they stand alone ?
In section by section
Or together; in no section at all.

When we pinch our self
Giving way to viscous liquid
Do they comes in sky ?
Or reddened deep rose

When we need a helper
To help relax a bolus
Do we find in difference
Or we seek the colourless liquid

When we cut the line
That fold us in difference
Making us a foe
Would our abode be worst ?
Or life, with our unity energy

Your vision, my sight
Your half, my part
Your tears, i sob
Your smile , i laugh
Only when the lines are cut.

Your comments are welcome