It’s hard not to love everything in life,
Even if I have been stabbed with a knife.
To love the night is to love the sunshine,
Understanding means to have seen the sign.
That you are the only character here,
That all your hate came from a place of fear.
What a strange journey it is to the grave,
For much time believing that we must behave.
But we do not die when we leave this place,
We have always been here with another face.
If you know you know, but no need to rush,
Sooner or later, the goodness will gush.