Hatred boils in every heart.
Alone in the dark abyss it festers,
feeding off of unshed light,
and despairing cries.

Easier just to let it live,
than fight a double-bladed sword.
A blackened plague it spreads,
dampening the weak and innocent.

Swirling and turning,
it spins into a spindly key.
Words and actions become prongs.

Hate has but one foe.
It can even elude death.
But love, love is the answer.

When hate is the only option
and seems the only way,
a blinding hope seethes through,
permanently rooting into the lock.

Leaving not one choice but two.
Yet even in the midst of love, boils hate.