The Rope-dancer
In the shards of my fragmented soul I see
Wicked faces of humanity grinning back at me. When unsought darkness, from chains, breaks free, Unmet selves come flying at me. Led by shadows own in trap or trance, Or even with conscious will perchance, I prowl with not one backward glance. Behind me, the devils gleefully prance. Spirits I hound with vigour anew; My better self with demons I imbue To enter chasms descended by few, Where games of light and shade ensue. Down there, stolen riches gleamed, While around me, fiends countless teemed. Black and white edges greyer seemed: On some such edge, I stood redeemed.
Inspirations: 1. Archetypes and the Collective Unconscious - Carl Jung 2. Thus Spake Zarathustra - Friedrich Nietzsche 3. Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoevsky
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