the waking up

i remember the old days, long lost in the memories, when i woke up with images of hatred in my mind. then i remember the day when i woke up with a picture of love, of forsaken love in front of my eyes, and i wept in despair when that hateful truth hit my face. now it was different. surprisinly different. i was given no time to turn the hatred back into love. i just felt the hatred being fiercely burned out, and from its ashes something is being made anew, growing wild in this cold winter. life is twisted by nature.