Of man be there two.
One holder of mirror whilst other a scryer,
renders mirror to glass pierces through.
Where one speaks the other is silenced,
mere whisper acknowledged in this interchanging feud.
So in this blurred intersection,
where there is no reflection
Then what man of man be the truth?
What man of man be the truth
as he stands here split in two?
Be it what he thinks or what he do
that makes the man?
This single man in double view.
A multi facet that will reveal itself in time due.
A facet only glimpsed in certain light,
gone unnoticed by friends.
One and the same in this game of life
where does one begin and one end,
when it is only in the battle that they raise their head?
See the chimera for what it truly is,
this lone Mr a Hydra instead.
Each flitters between life and the scythe
as they fight for control.
Each condemned to the darkness
as the other negotiates sole lease of this soul.
But Death haunts the two because the two
form the whole.
And so this dual begins
without rules and birthed in sin.
Begun with one who seeks to release his debase desires
that lie un-mired in mind,
confined to an imaginary state,
where he can ******, slander unheard
but then he plays with fate.
He plays with fate, when he opens the bottle,
hands himself to the primal,
unprimed for the battle that lay ahead.
That lay in head and heart and will;
one's will that will leave one dead.
But for now each has his role.
One takes the guise of a Jackal
in cunning he seeks to conceal the other,
his brother in hiding,
in sin he hides him inside him
but he will not be silenced.
The fiend longs for this angels confession
and will teach wings a lesson in flight
as he makes his escape in dark and in light.
So this would be angel tries in vain
to press the other down, so that he can remain
but he's wingless and in pain, feeling the strain of
restraints that will no longer contain
the hate that dominates as the other pushes free,
pushes to be this man's sole identity.
This poor soul thought he could enslave that which was caged
and to the beast he did open the door
but it was this angel that lost his wings
mauled by a beast that would not sing to his tune, just roar.
Each sacrificed for the other
as this man of man ends his days
cold on the floor.
For man can not negotiate with fate.
And when One cannot take rule
the pair will end their days together
in the dual.
Inspired by R.L Stevensons 'Strange case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde' I feel that we all have split personality's to a certain extent and it can cause internal conflict. We are all different things to different people, we all have our private self's that exist in mind and our public self's that exist in personality and it can be hard to balance at times. Sometimes I just wonder if a true self actually exists.