Your absence birthed two souls in me,
One full of spite, your foe to be.

It tries to hate, with pride held high,
Refusing to bow, though tears may lie.

Yet the other yearns, with love still pure,
It longs for you, your essence sure.

Rarely the first makes its fleeting play,
But the second now owns my every day.

Between these two, I am torn apart,
Lost in the battle of my own heart