The Coin

The shadows surrounded him, he saw them as they consumed every light in him. He loathed the pain yet enjoyed the state in which he could not see himself. His dreams grew colder, darker, the paint in his hands was too heavy for him to paint with. He did not need colour or the happiness each stroke brought, it was all too temporary for him as the rain would come and wash his canvas- mind clean. Demons, angels, were the watchers of his life, taught him that light and darkness are the sides of one coin, that they needed each other to build his wings. This was hard for him. He was suspended in the middle of these two worlds. He thought that there was a choice, he saw that he needed to be a manifestation of one. His spirit was torn. Reality and fantasy fused between his eyes, each too quick for him to grasp. One demon told him, ‘choices aren’t made, they make themselves when the time is at hand’.. he did not understand what this meant, so he travelled between the clouds and met an angel pouring colours in a rainbow after a rainy day of summer. He asked the angel, ‘are you of light or are you of the dark’.. the angel continued to say.. ‘I am of neither’. He went back in his dreams, tried looking for answers that he never seized.  Life became what he dreaded, which was the lack of choice of either. He lived in both.