My Struggle

With the quiet iridescence of our struggle,
We have seasons, some are gray and others
Full of light.
Who can touch me, and
Arouse the one who hides
In the depth of my
Doubt.

I know a lot. I know nothing.
A child stumbling around in
The disarray of my play-room.
A man, full of wisdom and knowledge
Helping those who struggle with the
Contradictions revealed in the inner
Chambers of my core,
Howling and chanting
In the darkness buried deep
Inside me, from whence
I came.

If the Leviathan, the dark energies,
Lilith or Samael,
Were the one’s chosen to begin
The narrative.
Perhaps even more primal,
They were the first emergence
The one’s who had to step out,
Step aside –
The so-called “first born”.

If from the Darkness I am born,
If that is the material from which I am fashioned,
No matter how high I rise,
How much “Light” I embody,
The darkness will always reside within me.

They say our task is to transform the Darkness,
See the Divine spark of Light buried in the Darkness,
And by recognising it, release it
thus “increase” the light!

By accepting that it is from the Darkness that I am spawned,
By accepting my birthright, I can accept my position, and
Step into the fullness of who I am.