I.

Sometimes, I saunter off on a path, humming in song of my language; the one erased by foreign tongue and simplified dreams-  because I know that I can keep that language alive. At least for a few more sleepless years. I trod through that path, beside keeping the language of HATRED on it's feet, to keep every form or even shade of color, away from my dying language. You see, I live in a world of black and white, a language and culture enveloped all in itself.

II.

Black and white is painted in my veins, carved into my skin, and burned into the iris of my pupils.
[But, I've learned to enjoy it]
Hatred is black and white because it is so simple now-a-days. Indeed, it is so simple that when you close your eyes and imagine that you live in a world of hatred, you don't see any shade of color. But perhaps the theory is just that. Maybe, because that there is no color, that black will substitute because black is "the absence of color"! I could be claimed a madman or a genius for this theory. But white? I suppose white is there to keep the black company, now I assure you I sound like a madman- but don't we all seem like madmen to the public's eye when we come up with ideas that are prone to be discussed by political leaders and numerous activists?

III.

Love is the opposite of Hatred, since love is created of so many colors, and shades, and even views. Love in many ways,besides being so many numerous shades is one color in specific, I don't know first-hand but I understand it is said to be a red. Burgundy, I might recall- but my mind is going weary as we speak, so I can't assure you anyways. I keep the language of black and white alive because, I can not bare the weight of love, unless of course, the unloved can shoulder it, too. Love is torture, and that is why I chose Hatred. You see with love, someone is always reliant of you, asking above all of North, South, East, and West. Hatred on the other hand, is just a silent-treatment and an unsettled grudge, and it is painfully easy to live with. Painfully.

IV.

Opinions of Hatred differ by many. But hush. I have a secret to tell you, and don't go telling your friends young man. Listen closely, for the following is my most sacred of secrets: Hatred speaks to you, my boy, and it asks only of two things from you, your trust, and your dependence towards others. Make the promise and he'll take those two treasures of yours, and digs it six feet under the stars. Impressive, If I don't say so myself.
You don't believe me? Well boy, in time you will realize that others are to dependent towards you, and If you trust them two early you'll become exactly like them, weak. Hatred, takes the upperhand, he makes sure that you're not token advantage of, like love normally is.
So boy, sing a song of my lovely language and take the hand of Hatred. Don't you realize we all eventually will.