Again Grazed Wet Cheeks Poem by Doris Cornago

Hatred and love are not opposites. They are extremes of the same thing, the duality in us. Nobody is good or bad, or even in between. One can love much and in the same breath, hate much. The gentle hand that rocks the cradle is the sane hand that wields the dagger when spurned. Love is ultimately the factor that takes away our doubts and makes us embrace all that we are, but not to be fooled. Never play a dangerous game with love for even the witty can get incinerated.