I Love You, I Hate You

There is a most sacred place for poets A place after inspiration has abandoned us At the wayside of emptiness, We look for a return In between the sunrise and sunset, Love and hate goes back and forth, Trying to break ties or stay committed The poet falls to slumber From the sunset to the dawn, Another's sleep has failed Oh how the humble feel unworthy, In a place such as this Entrusting our emotions to convey, Our hearts to all onlookers, We patiently wait, For we have grown accustomed To being left in the cold Yet, it is moments as this, That we visit the past and peer into the future And at some point, We become enlightened A kindred spirit stirs our heart, As inspiration lifts us to salvation And so we once again walk with the living, Until she abandons us again, For dead