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Apologia pro Meo Ratio Decidendi (Speech in defence of my reason for the decision)
Apologia pro Meo Ratio Decidendi
(Speech in defence of my reason for the decision)
The sense of confliction,
I am no stranger to it.
Indeed it is of great fascination,
I suppose I am a prime example of it.
There is the fact of me being half-cast,
In a world inclined towards black and white,
Something different, having to be separately classed,
The conflict of two extremes a constant fight.
Something not of my choosing, but of my birth,
Possibly the balance of black and white
This philosophical reflection giving me limited mirth,
Questions such as what is wrong and what is right?
Having been away and mysteriously gone,
Hoping to return as a prodicle son,
But in reality it seemed I was forgotten
But is that because what I seemed to be was none?
To return and feel betrayed
To fall to paranoia and distrust
But was it I prison I made?
To forget life and now for death I lust?
I also feel misunderstood
To change my life and everything if I could,
My cryptic meaning never seemingly understood.
The option of slowly dying to take I should?
To live this half-life,
To never fully be anything
Am I full of woe and strife?
To feel as something is missing.
I believe I have gone partially mad,
Due to immense solitude and pondering
As to whether be good or bad,
Never said, but in my mind, wandering.
To feel as though I must take one or the other,
Not content with what I am
The extremes of this and thy other
Not yet knowing why I am.
Believing there must be hatred or love
And decide if logically there must only be bad or good
The balance given a definitive shove,
Forgetting that to choose the middle, I always could.
Ideas of heroes and villains and the alike,
Other contrasts such as fire and ice, werewolf and vampire
To think that I am either a smart one or a stupid type
To feel as though my foundations are in the mire.
Finding solace in that none would dare,
To try to live my life the same way
To others I cannot fully compare
Solitarily live, die and forever unconscious lay.
These are the ideas I think and the senses I feel
Also thinking more than I ever say,
Relax; this is my chosen done deal,
Most what I feel and think in my head they lay.
The chance to choose an option, I forgo
Consolidating back to an uneven balance
This tragic comedy or comedic tragedy now up for show
I now fall into the halfway trance.
Nor love, nor hatred, light or dark, black or white, fire or ice
Good or bad, this or that, one or the other, a or b
They can no longer reach me and attempt to entice
I having decided on the unknown option c.
Now a true original in the spectrum of the human race
But this distilled cosmic balance comes at a hefty toll;
Never to rise to, fall from or experience grace
And everything affected in halves even my soul.
So now you have seen my sense of confliction
Of such a thing you may never have heard,
In a world seemingly having a two-option fascination.
But I being different, my option is that of the Third.
(Speech in defence of my reason for the decision)
The sense of confliction,
I am no stranger to it.
Indeed it is of great fascination,
I suppose I am a prime example of it.
There is the fact of me being half-cast,
In a world inclined towards black and white,
Something different, having to be separately classed,
The conflict of two extremes a constant fight.
Something not of my choosing, but of my birth,
Possibly the balance of black and white
This philosophical reflection giving me limited mirth,
Questions such as what is wrong and what is right?
Having been away and mysteriously gone,
Hoping to return as a prodicle son,
But in reality it seemed I was forgotten
But is that because what I seemed to be was none?
To return and feel betrayed
To fall to paranoia and distrust
But was it I prison I made?
To forget life and now for death I lust?
I also feel misunderstood
To change my life and everything if I could,
My cryptic meaning never seemingly understood.
The option of slowly dying to take I should?
To live this half-life,
To never fully be anything
Am I full of woe and strife?
To feel as something is missing.
I believe I have gone partially mad,
Due to immense solitude and pondering
As to whether be good or bad,
Never said, but in my mind, wandering.
To feel as though I must take one or the other,
Not content with what I am
The extremes of this and thy other
Not yet knowing why I am.
Believing there must be hatred or love
And decide if logically there must only be bad or good
The balance given a definitive shove,
Forgetting that to choose the middle, I always could.
Ideas of heroes and villains and the alike,
Other contrasts such as fire and ice, werewolf and vampire
To think that I am either a smart one or a stupid type
To feel as though my foundations are in the mire.
Finding solace in that none would dare,
To try to live my life the same way
To others I cannot fully compare
Solitarily live, die and forever unconscious lay.
These are the ideas I think and the senses I feel
Also thinking more than I ever say,
Relax; this is my chosen done deal,
Most what I feel and think in my head they lay.
The chance to choose an option, I forgo
Consolidating back to an uneven balance
This tragic comedy or comedic tragedy now up for show
I now fall into the halfway trance.
Nor love, nor hatred, light or dark, black or white, fire or ice
Good or bad, this or that, one or the other, a or b
They can no longer reach me and attempt to entice
I having decided on the unknown option c.
Now a true original in the spectrum of the human race
But this distilled cosmic balance comes at a hefty toll;
Never to rise to, fall from or experience grace
And everything affected in halves even my soul.
So now you have seen my sense of confliction
Of such a thing you may never have heard,
In a world seemingly having a two-option fascination.
But I being different, my option is that of the Third.
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