Hatred

Why do we harbor hatred

for those so close within our hearts—

those who once filled our every breath?

Why do they suddenly drift away,

slipping far from the reach

of our deepest longings?

Perhaps our hopes weigh too heavy

upon the fragile shoulders

of desire’s tender bloom.

This chain of hopes—

no one knows where it begins—

but it awakens alongside each yearning.

Then we measure our desire,

testing it on the scales of hope,

waiting for the poison’s effect

to reveal itself or relent.

While desire stands firm

against hope’s dark shadow,

it grows and blossoms,

alive and unbroken.

But the moment that black veil

of expectation descends—

that’s when desire gasps its last,

and hatred is born,

cold and fierce.

Why do we burden longing

with the weight of hope’s demand?

We gain nothing but

the restless loss of peace.

Let desire be tethered lightly,

only as far as it can flutter

without strangling life itself.

Let desire turn back freely

when the path grows harsh,

and in that gentle freedom,

desire will smile—

and hatred will never take root.

And in this quiet reckoning—

when hate dissolves like morning mist,

and longing is no longer weighed

by chains of fragile hope—

we find a tender stillness,

where hearts, unburdened, breathe as one.

Here, beneath the vast expanse of sky,

love is neither cage nor battlefield—

but a gentle river flowing free,

inviting all wounds to heal,

inviting all souls to rest,

and finally, to be whole.