Love and Hate,
not so vastly different as they seem;
Both allow your heart to race,
both are as a dream;
Both keep your numbing hands alive,
with flickering, white-hot flames,
and keep you singing battle cries—
on your tongue remains a single name;
And both alight within you, fear, passion, drive:
a will which one cannot sedate,
and must keep burning to survive;
But pleasure and pain are not so far,
there is no gilded gate;
For though to separate them, you may strive,
it\'s a thin line, between love and hate.