Hater Of Her Hate

I hate the haters of her,

I hate the praisers of her,

I went to the doctor friend,

He guessed that my triangle was on rent,

I replied in negotiation and said no,

He told I was you and like this did grow,

My thirsty triangle though sea was before,

Couldn't tell anything though I was on the shore,

He is now my best crecher,

As he knows my past predicts right my future,

He knows who has been in my horizon,

The best buddy also knows leaving her means gone,

But I beg you not to burn or bury me,

Put me in morgue she might come and see.