War is hell.
It's kin, famine and disease, are hellish too, but not equally so. People will join together and help each other, heal each other, in times of drought and sickness regardless of class or race or nationality or gender or sexuality or anything else that divides human beings. They will, however, break apart and hurt each other, destroy each other, because of those divisive things in times of war.
Hope comes because of the helping and the healing. Despair because of the hurting and destroying.
Look into the opened, clouded eyes of a person who has been killed by a bullet or a bomb, a tank or a plane, a gun or a bayonet, or any of the tools of war, and you will see a look of surprise and sadness...as if the person were trying to say, "I am a human being...I am supposed to live...I need to love...I need to be loved."
Because of war, the surprise and sadness is followed by...emptiness.
That person, that human being, with all the potential to do good in the world, to do good for the world, is gone from the earth...is gone from life...is gone.
Love is a sanctuary from that hell.
Love as a way of living, as a way to say with life, "I am here...I am here for you...you are here...you are here for me...I am because we are...we are because I am," that is the kind of love that is lived with a life, that gives life, that provides sanctuary.