Love, ah! What a soulless and sombre word, for the only wellspring in the arid of time, for the only white cloud in the darkened sky, for the only reprieve in the chasm of pain and for the only light in the ocean of dark. That emotion, that affection, that passion, that warmth that arose in the heart of heaven for nature, that sprouted in the soul of Death and Time, that brightened the flame of the Sun’s essence, that touched the hearts of Adam and Eve, that caressed the brow of Sky and Earth, that kissed the soul of Mother and Son, that touched the veins of Rose and Bee, ah! that pure love can never be contained in just one word, it needs whole books, whole libraries to be defined and even then it is not enough for even before Time opened his young eyes, Love was present and when the Time will take his last breath, Love will be present, for love has no progeny, no successor and it is eternal, forever existing.
But there is another feeling, another form of attraction, another emotion that is the echo of love’s sincere voice, the twin of her eternal soul and the remnant of her lurid kiss. It is hate, pure hatred that balances the effect of pure love and it is, and was and forever will be the most sincere lover of love for Love and Hate were born holding hands.
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