A poem based on the Jungian concept of the persona and the shadow. The first four lines are the persona speaking to the shadow, then the shadow to the persona, and so on.
O’, repression, thou I do see
Hidden in his heart art thou
With hurt and haught, he thee endows
In such corruption, thou brancheth as a tree
Beloved persona, thou know me not
Contempt for thee is what I bleed
Such pestilence of mind, him thou feed
When sleepeth he on the nighttime cot
Foolish shadow, thou I hear
Lies, all that thou produce
Thy deception makes his thinking loose
It makes his temperance turn to fear
Thou archetype, thou hero past
In truth, a trickster to his heart
Deceiving him to play the part
Thou take his first and make it last
Bitter evil, repression of soul
Thou knoweth not the fruitless stake
Valueless man, our master would make
Should thou choose to make him whole
Regretful, though my life may be
A wholesome man, him would I form
Step aside, thou trickster; I take my dorm
For wholeness is the master’s plea
Woe to me, I am beaten!
Thou wise old shadow; thou mundane truth
Though through thee, our master finds his youth
His eucharist requires me eaten
Thou knoweth not truly my master
A part of him, thou never were
Free of thee, parasite, no longer a cur
No longer trapped, he doth grow faster