Challenge
Challenge of the Week CCVI
You've found yourself standing at the gates of Hell, and you're given a typewriter and one page waiting in it. You have one short poem to either keep you out, or shove you in.
Fusion
Hate came storming in the door
squalling, yelling, howling
ready to drill into damaged heart.
Hate had watched Love through cracks
distorting exposed image in his mind,
contaminating her senses, stole her soul
squalling, yelling, howling
Foggy essence of imperfect Hate
damned to Hell where lonely lies,
larger and larger, the cyclone grows,
dehydrated thoughts, waning passion
squalling, yelling, howling
Love is the conqueror and purifies pith
seizes Hate’s emotions whirling in space.
Love flows like lava into crevices of Hate,
warming the cold and sadness therein,
melts the ice from Hate’s furrowed brow
soothing, softening, calming
Meeting in middle, Love and Hate become
ONE
escaping Hell to bask in Heaven’s glow
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