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Hatred has a power, that cannot be denied,
a balm for sad weaklings whom blood brothers despise
The impotent of soul and narrowest of minds
who cannot comprehend that love’s the tie that binds
A momentary rush, a temporary thrill
is drug that hate provides, a drug that just does ill
Hatred is but a mask for those who live in fear
that their petty weakness to world will be revealed
The whips, the chains, the guns with which hate has to rule
in no way makes Man strong, in all ways makes Man fools