Warmth of blood

All a game of black and white
The byte of '1' and of '0'
In the binary of two, the
checkerboard of day and night

All that stays
In our limited vision
Stays for that optimum
Which sustains our life

Sour the soul becomes
In the pangs
Seeing all those left behind
Writhing in pain

When I talk, I talk not
When I listen, I hear not
YOU play two edges sword
I play with my single heart

Warmth of blood, I have
Not two but one I become
When binary gets converted
To human form in skin and blood