THE GIFT OF HATE

Empty it seems, at times, their cry about Love,

Their claim that love is the only thing that survives.

For I who am born of my centuries strewn with hate,

Who was spewed into life from a timeless tangle of sin,

I can hate as strong and as long as I love!

There are hours and issues I hate;

There are creeds and deeds and doubts I hate;

There are men I hate to the uttermost;

And although in their graves they listen and weep,

Earth's mothers and wistful women who cried for peace,

I hate this King of Evil who has crowned my heart with Hate!