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■ The oak
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Hatred’s menacing fist
replaced love’s gentle care, Your affectionate gaze is A defiant stare, A warrior cry replaced the Loving whisper, In such ludicrous haste Hate invaded Love’s realm of joy and wisdom. Consequently, Love prepared herself for war: she set her temples on fire, poisoned her springs, burned down her fields, burried her treasures, grabed her armour plate, her helmet and her sword, and rushed towards her enemy; Thus we’ve come here, Where love and hate confront And hate seems million times stronger; I cannot see what is there to gain No matter who the winner will be; There is nothing left in the realm of Love, Except this lifeless, barren field.
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