Blind Hate Is Love
Blind hate is love
And love
Is nothing shallow still
The fang only drips
From desire
To bring without
Within
And make the frail
The strong
The claw only rips
To inspire.
Love cannot doubt
And that which is loved
Look out
For I would take a cross
Rather
Than to let go
You understand
To more your loss
Is more than any knows.
To love
The self to self is given
To be loved
Is the reclamation of heaven
And lovers recover
Still
The self from self
Beyond their will.
Blind hate is love
And love is nothing
Shallow still.
Copyright © David Smalling | Year Posted 2012
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