You and I were walking down a solitary path, one day.
You walked on the fallen leaves, which looked like sufferers of war.
We were at antipodes, your side had night,
While my side had a bright sunny day.
As we walked, you chose to talk of non human meetings,
Where people fed on blood.
With a prideful smile,
You spoke, " I killed two fifty zombies, as they marched towards my farm.'
And I asked you , "Why?"
They could have destroyed my boundary wall.
"Why would they?"
They are bigots.
"They told you so?"
No, but I know, they were.
"So they were a menace to your lands?"
To humanity in brief.
And, you added, to God.
"God " I smiled.
"He told you so?"
No, you said arching your brow,
But it is my duty.

You told me many more stories of how you and your allies saved the World and God.
But our thoughts were like ice and fire.
I told you,
But they are His children.
You killed your siblings.
And your instant reply was,
"Not mine."
So you think that your God didn't made this entire World.
"He did."
So he must have made all that's living.
"True."
Then who were those two fifty, whom you killed?

You were quite for the rest of the journey.
I should have told you,
I wished to learn the answer to that question in this life.
But you were lost in dark.