Lines.

When line collide,
When gradient merge,
Oh what joy
what joy!
For an encounter urge.

Like lovers in the desert,
Passion as hot as sand.

Like a juggernaut,
Unstoppable,
Unbreakable,

Unfazed.

Then shells began to rain.
So he dug a trench,
And her to own.

For groups do not fair well under fire.

So they hid, and waited, and dug.
Hid, waited, dug.
Hid, waited, dug.

Till one day, their trenches so deep,
They could not see the other.
As eyes lifted and gazed,
In the cold alone, they shudder.

His hands like shovels,
Digging to find a gap.
Yet all he sees is darkness,
And all his energy is sapped.

So he marches along his trench,
And she to march her own.
When line collide,
And gradient merge,
Oh what joy,
What joy!

But none, when lines diverge.