Rage that won’t abate
Is partially due to love, and partially due to hate.
Love and hate are always divided by a wall.
Here’s the thing: the division itself is all.
That’s why rage is what we see.
Even though she loves me.
If loves destroys the wall.
Then love will be all.
Hate will vanish as if it never existed,
Like a knot, when the string’s untwisted.
Love must be the reason:
No other reason can be.
When the reason for the wall is gone,
And the reason for the wall forgotten,
She will love me.
