The love I have engulfs me
The rage I have erodes the love I crave
So that its expression is denied.
The faith I have sustains the love I have,
Contains the rage I have,
So that my love is multiplied.
But as my love grows more
My rage grows not less,
Somehow its parasitic place
Denies forgetfulness.
The rage I have feeds on the love I have,
The love I have rebuffs the rage I have.
And so, with love that cannot speak
And rage that smoulders on,
The understanding that I seek
Is passed to you when I am gone.
April 1999