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The rivers are running red
And there is no sign of light
For miles and miles

A guard is keeping vigil
On the thin red line
Making sure no one crosses it

I see my brother on the other side
And my heart squirms
As my breath aches

Half of my foot is on this side
The other half on
The other side

A barrel of a gun is kept on my temple
“Where do you belong?”
Shouts a voice

“With my” I say
“With your?”
It asks

My brother steps forward
His foot now
In alignment with mine

A gun is kept on his temple
“Where do you belong?”
Asks the voice

He is silent
A barrel is now burrowed into his skin
As blood begins to drip down

I want my brother to speak
I want him to say –
What they want to hear

I am asking you again –
“Where do you belong?”
Asks the same voice on his side

“I belong to my brother,” I speak up
As the barrel is shoved violently into
My temple

“You support your brother?
“And not the?”
The voice screams

The same question is asked to my brother
He still remains silent
Dead as a stone

Two bullets go off simultaneously

“For my country,” I murmur as I fall
“Is my brother,” says my brother as he falls
Our eyes meet for the last time

There is silence
The mud covering us as a shield