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