I feel my body and shadow reverse
What walks is made of air
What lies on the ground
Is made up of skin, bone and hair
My soul is an ascetic
My body just a whore
The two of them have waged on me
A holy little war
In which I am a neutral party
Neither left nor right
A dim witted civilian
Caught up in the fight
"Who started it?" I ask
Seeking out the source
But no solution rises
From the ashes of this course
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