PROMPT: Write an English sonnet.

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My dear beloved, thou art my greatest hate

No bigger foe or fiend that dared oppose

Could thus compare to one brought forth by fate

To sate this lust for blood, as sweet as rose

We fought for many years, so fierce yet matched

Hearts beat for every scar, such bliss yet pride

Till came a day, alas, you grew attached

Your eyes, they shone, of fear you could not hide

A fear of what or whom, I did not know

I thought, at first, a weakness had been sowed

But love? ... Love! Please, say it is not so

I will not let you break the hate we vowed

So, dear beloved, my sword your life will spill

Until the day your love my hate will kill