Once Love found Hate in her bedroom;
her breaths short her cheeks pale with gloom.
Her skin bruised wanly with despair;
her eyes redd'ning like a fire.

In front of her spread a suitcase;
th' wooden one with four blue wheels
She packed her clothes in a blank daze-
scarfs, tights, pants, coats, and pretty heels.

Love stormed swiftly into th' room
Begged her to explain her doings
She turned around with shades of gloom
and suddenly stopped her packing.

'Why might thou want to know?' she said.
'I am to mount a carriage,
next to th' sea and pebbled shores-
leaving thee and t'is parsonage,
as I canst but love thee no more.'

Love start'd to plead and kneel by her.
'Part with me not, o, my darling!
Life without thee is like graveyards,
wherein my soul'd lie like a stone-
soul t'at's fond'f thee innocently!'

Love grabbed Hate's white wrist and kissed it
Tried to distract her with his wit
She icily frowned and flitted
Ran to her suitcase and yanked it

Off th' bed 'till 'tis on th' floor.
Clenching it she walked off to th' door.
Yet she turned once more onto him.
Staring at his blue eyes, she seemed.

'Thy heart what has hath ruined thee.
Detest, thy plant with scrutiny.
When I suffereth thou wert here not.
Thou just want'd to share what I got!

'For her thou locked up my feelings,
for her thou mocked away my smiles.
On her name thou scyth'd my flowers-
and painted my cards with remorse.'

'For her thou tore 'way my kisses,
for her thou pushed away my hands.
Put astray the blush of my cheeks,
ran naked at night into her charms.'

'Thou dreamed of her with dear passion,
and glared at me with aversion.
Thou praised her grace and affection,
and cursed me into damnation.'

'Who says love is like a fountain?
I find it replete with hatred.
Who thinks love resembl's a mountain?
It's soul as wicked as a *******!'

'Vileness t'at hath conquered my heart,
and torn my whole kindness apart!
I'm not an object of thy lies,
no more to watch thy sins and vice.'

'And I wish thee but one goodbye!
To 'nother world I shalt still fly
Like a bird or young butterfly
And seek thou not until I die.'

'But bless be with thee, o, darling!
Hope God still descends His mercy-
onto t'is happiness of thee-
And th' day of thy own wedding!'

'Invite me not, for Heaven's sake.
As in my moonlit den by t'en
Shalt I be writing my own fake
A story of fond childhood friends.'

'T'ey wert but I and thee, my dear,
before we becameth Love and Hate.
Within t'ose times I hath no fear;
of falling in love with my mate.'

'But I didst, eventually!
Thoughts of thee began to haunt me-
at my thirteenth birthday party.
T'at night of thee I wrote poetry!'

''Ah, t'is piece of writing t'at I loved,''
Hate pushed out a worn handkerchief
with breaths of an old deep relief.
"Keep it as thou dearest treasure!"

'On t'is blissful night of azure,
of her love thou still needst be sure.
Chain her to thee by'a happy knot,
have a wedding in one week short.'

'Saileth shall I deep into the sea,
a book and its poems be with me.
Littleness makes my heart merry,
abundance sends my nerves weary.'

'And by thy bliss shalt I hath gone,
when thy heart she'th finally won.
But it no more be of'a burden,
as thy joy makes my soul gladden.'

'And remember me not, whilst I'm none-
o thou who wert once my prince.
As I am just trivial like a stone,
when pain bites me still not I wince.'

'Cherish thy vic'try, o my love,
for today shan't be repeated,
like t'ose innocent young green groves-
who smile at th' wild, gusty winds.'

'And weep not, o, on my leaving,
for in death we'll be uniting.
As the heavens even howl not,
whenst I travel from dot to dot.'

'But pray to God, I canst tell thee
so thy sins shalt soon be atoned.
And from stains thy soul canst be free
as thy shoulders from pains t'ey'th borne.'

'And depart now I, o, my king!
Canst I watch now th' waves swirling
and th' ****** boat beside me-
wait for me to mount 'em in glee!'

With a grin on her faint red lips,
fall didst Hate on th' bed's blue sheets!
At first her eyes still bright, cheeks red and warm,
but minutes pass and her breaths fleet!

Sink didst Hate's head to her shoulder-
No matter how hard Love woke her!
And didst stop her heart from beating
Into silent death she's shrinking.

Love groaned and wailed 'till th' morn came,
but emptiness still frost'd th' streets.
No-one came in to bringst a flame;
except th' storm in graying fits!

Love sobbed 'till his eyes caught a knife
Laying nearby in th' kitchen.
Dart'd he forward in one long leap-
and seized it with his hands barren!

Stabbed it didst he into his chest,
with screams t'at pierced everyone's ears.
And fled they off from t'eir bed rest-
'fore thumping on into th' scene.

And th' two lovers nearly dead
Their heads laid straight by th' stabbed knife.
Despite his pain, Love smileth instead-
whispered 'I loveth Her' to his wife.

Wedded they wert at t'eir fun'ral
Amongst th' sobs of t'eir parents.
And even the lady, Hate's rival
was seen clearly 'midst th' currents.

"And blessed by Lord, is t'is couple"
Father Smith read his wan prayers.
"Both in their lives and now in death,
in t'eir Heaven walks and rambles."

And didst t'ey leave th' silent graves
'pon t'at farewell in th' churchyard
Where dwelleth th' lov'rs in t'eir new caves;
'nwhich no more love betrays t'eir hearts.

But on th' brown soil laid one poem!
Written fiercely by Love himself
Th' day beforeth Hate planned to move-
and showeth th' tale she wrote herself.

Th' tale t'at is now but buried;
with t'eir eternal love forever.
Beneath all th' soil and deadly stones;
of th' days t'at hath now been gone.

But how true words shalt never die;
and even in death still triumph.
So t'ere is no use of say'ng goodbye;
'fore winters to fading autumns.

'I love thee 'cos thou art my Hate-
th' devil side of my being.
Without thee incomplete my fate-
and mirthless is all my knowing.'

'I love thee 'cos of thee I'm made,
if I am King then thou art Queen.
Loving thee truly by my side,
I care no longer for her then.'

'I love thee 'cos thou art my breath,
if I'm anger then thou art wrath.
If I'm joy then thou shalt be glad,
when I'm angered thou shalt be mad.'

'But I love thee 'cos I just do!
And without thee my life is blue.
It's with thee I hath no more fears,
in joy and grief, in laughs and tears.'