In the fabric of the world, hate is a heavy word, and love equally laden

In the fabric of the world, "hate" is a heavy word, and "love" – equally laden, When you lose yourself in the arc of unconditional affection, you know it's a beginning or an unexpectedly sudden end. It does not hold you accountable for what you are or have been, For you see, to love so intensely also gives you the power to hate, so deeply and impenetrable. It doesn't come from the pessimism of lack, but from the pain that pierced you, "Forgive and move on", they say, with ease and untested virtue. But how can I not tire? When the heart barely heals, another comes and crushes it without blinking. Each tear of mine is a heavy mountain carried on your name, borne towards eternity. I have consumed all my forgiveness, the balm of peace I have found only in the ashes left after their burn. "Live your life", you say, but don't forget – karma watches, relentless, And I leave it all in her hands, to teach you that by wounding knowingly, You traverse deserts of ash even on golden paths, on a backdrop of fervent prayers. You planted the abyss in me, but that is the fate of the one who loves without bounds, A curse to be born again, from love auctioned off – change forever. To love is perhaps to throw one’s self into flames, to change unwillingly, And all that I was breaks, a bird with clipped wings, in flight towards all that you might be.