Three Sdes of he Coin

I am bifurcated
Cleaved down the middle of my soul
Goodness dwells in the same house as evil
Therefore I am a man, only a man
One hand on the tiller of my destiny
One on the latch of the door to Hell

When the master tends the servant
When the lowly act above their station
When the leader follows behind,
    stretching out the hand of guidance
The balance beam will level
Mankind will find greatness

Hope softens the bite of truth
Truth bares the naïve heart of hope
In appearance the seem opposed
But in tandem's traces they reveal our souls,
   stripping away the cloak of delusion
Weaving a fabric of dreams