The Principle of Hate

Titan! To thee the strife was given
Between the suffering and the will,
Which torture where they cannot kill;
And the inexorable Heaven,
And the deaf tyranny of Fate,
The ruling principle of Hate,
Which for its pleasure doth create
The things it may annihilate.

Lord George Gordon Byron
July 1816

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I am sometimes judged as a ruthless, unkind soul. For I have chosen to live passionately, and refuse continuously to conform. I have aged, and yet, the fire within my soul remains untouched. I have changed too much, and wish to change no more.
After being judged, yet again, by someone dear to me, I cannot help but feel frustration. Firstly, of being unfit; secondly of being betrayed. Since for my Gaelic-Roman blood, there is no worse injury than a reprimand on my morals and my pride.
The following rant is a token from the bottom of my dark, merciless heart. Only the very blackest of Krasnodar tea from the Caucasus will portray accurately the feelings conveyed in the following lines.


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For light to exist,
Darkness must necessarily be.
How could we then
Be able to tell
The subtleties of shade?

We are binary beings,
Capable of equal amounts
Of ying and yang,
Of black and white.

We continuously preach
To the rest of the world
About peace and unity
And the power of love,
Yet we still detest our neighbours.

We silently curse
The dirt of bums in the street,
And still pretend
Our leaders not to be our reflection.

It is so easy,
Comes so naturally
To point our fingers,
Look at the other…
And exalt the virtues of the Divine.

But who are we
To preach to others
All the things
We certainly aren’t?

We listen to black music
But cringe at the mixed,
Odd interracial couples
When they’re making out nearby.

We boast of having
Sexually diverse friends,
But vote against the laws
Which would make us all the same.

We hypocritical lot!
We gloat at the very chance
Of casting the first hurtful stone.
And after that we plead forgiveness,
To our friends, our parents or the cross.

Then by all means,
Better we’d be if we felt,
Just for once,
The purest love
Or the most visceral hate!

We would be braver
And purer,
If only we admitted
How we really felt.

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