The Gift of Hate

Empty it seems, at times, their cry about Love, Their claim that love is the only thing that survives. For I who am born of my centuries strewn with hate, Who was spewed into life from a timeless tangle of sin, I can hate as strong and as long as I love!

There are hours and issues I hate; There are creeds and deeds and doubts I hate; There are men I hate to the uttermost; And although in their graves they listen and weep, Earth's mothers and wistful women who cried for peace, I hate this King of Evil who has crowned my heart with Hate!