Indivdual of Two

(This is a little poem I wrote while sitting in a cafe. It's about me during a time long past, and no I am not a rapist.)

There once was a young man, whose own name he did not want to hear.
For what reason cannot be told, only read through what will soon unfold.
Not long ago he was beloved by many, here and there friends bounded aplenty. Until one day came, just like the rest, but little did he know it would be a most grueling test.

The young man in question held a secret most dear, revealing it to anyone did he most greatly fear.
For if anyone were to know, would there be the great pain and sadness to sow. Inside this young man there lived an individual of two, why this was the case there was no one who knew.
Two beings indeed, with one on fear did he feed, a weak and sickly parody of the young man you would see.

The other was strong and pure of heart, nothing conceivably could tear him apart. Justice and truth is for what did he strive, indeed those were concepts of why he was alive.
The two beings balanced each other out, for if one were to disappear the other would have never come about.
Each one tolerated the other, knowing their intertwined fate, but to each other they existed with outrage and hate.

Outwardly, the young man looked not peculiar, that's why he had friends from here and afar.
One particular friend, a girl, with whose trust did he gain, little did he know he would cause her great pain.
The being of lust and hatred took control, the other one mysteriously powerless to extoll.
The girl did he shamelessly violate, seeking only his powerful lust to sate.

After the injustice, the deed was done, and only the being of lust had stood - won. The being of justice and righteousness flew into a rage, railing on the bars of his perilous cage.
His sorrow was deep and his anger great, now it was justice and wrath he sought to placate.
He broke from his cage, tore into the gloom, only to meet his other with a frightening boom.

In the shadows of the young man's psyche did the right strangle his other half, not caring if inevitable death was the only aftermath.
The being of lust was one to die slowly, and he stroked his brother's cheek gently, as if in soft revelry.
With a dying gasp did he pass from this plane, gone was the being of lust and of pain.

His corpse was buried deep, gone for good, and over the grave was the being of justice stood.
He mourned from his deed, because through death was not justice served, but he reasoned -it's what he deserved.

He knew that death would come for him as well, so with anger and confusion into the dark sky did he yell.
Hours into days, days into weeks, but there was no sign, even his brother's grave was quite benign.
Not a single sound, asides from his own, not a single silent word until the rotting grave stirred.
This did he see, with a mixed sensed of twisted glee.
His brother would remain, the being of indomitable lust and of pleasurable pain.

It was a constant, the young man was an individual of two, the reason why - there was no one who knew.