The Two Of Him

There are two of him
Different souls, single body
And there is a muse

The two fight endlessly
And senselessly 
For one loves the muse
The other despises her
And one secretly wants the other to win
But are prey to ego's sin

One pines while the other plots
Longing and loathing go hand in hand
Steps taken forward are retraced
Back to the same familiar land
They argue and they clash
Over interests so varied
Yet stemming from thoughts of the muse
Are they to be revelled in or are they to be buried

The muse is confronted
And the deed is done
She lies on her back
Blood like water runs
The plotter ceases to exist
Having had his fill
The lover kills himself
And then everything stays still

There were two of him,
Different souls, single body
And there was a muse....