Contrary emotions are like sworn nemeses in the medieval epoch. They find a place that can cater well to their need of habitation and they proceed to pretentiously coexist peacefully and convincingly, but as time goes by, their true intent to overtake the kingdom and overthrow the ruler is made manifest, and that is precisely how the war of emotions kicks off.
Hatred enters the battlefield armed with his weapon of poison, hurt with his arrows, indifference with his shield and insult with its club. Only love enters unarmed, sans even a single means of defense.
In course of combat, love is wounded mortally- struck, impaled and blown, temporarily weakened and incapacitated, but not enough to give up the fight. It allows itself to be victimized until the assailing foes themselves grow weary of the fight and retreat in defeat.
Love, though wounded, triumphs in sweet victory and basks in humble glory. It restores and rejuvenates itself and the Kingdom of the Heart that was subject to much attrition.
Love neither is a fighter nor a killer, but a conqueror. It is its own weapon- a weapon that eliminates what breaks and restores what has been broken.