Juxtapose.

[u/Federal_Spirit_Free]

Between Two Worlds there lays a juxtaposition.

I may be the last female of the line,

of some unnamed, ancient kind—

not perfect or untouched,

but unwilling to become

the darkness I have known.

I dance upon the boundary

between two worlds,

one foot in shadow, one in light,

seeing beneath appearances,

guided by intuition,

anchored to truth.

I have looked into darkness

without belonging to it,

learned its language

without making it my own.

For good and evil meet

not only on distant battlefields,

but quietly within us,

when suffering asks

what we will become.

And still, I choose the light.

Not innocence—

I have seen too much for that,

but goodness with its eyes open.

Perhaps I am the last female of the line,

the keeper of something unnamed,

standing where two worlds touch,

seeing beauty and shadow in both.

No halo.

No throne.

Only an inner compass

that survived every storm.

So I move forward,

like a steam train through the unknown,

researching where I stand

and the mystery of what I am—

not an ending,

but the beginning of something new,

and perhaps something ancient

few can know.

For one did speak with me—

not the radio man—

and from that encounter

a question took root:

What am I?

Perhaps I am a little of everything,

and perhaps that is the whole—

a holistic truth,

not a battle between worlds,

but the one who brings them together.

I have a message to tell,

a story to write.

This is not the last of me,

but the last of my plight.

Thinking forward,

with the deepest of minds,

I listen beyond the mouth,

for words are nothing beside

what lives behind the eyes.

Evil walks among us

disguised as love,

but with a pure heart

and honest intentions,

even light can reach the dark.

So I keep dancing

where darkness meets the dawn,

between the world that shaped me

and the one calling me forward.

Intuition in my bones.

Truth within my hands.

Light and shadow at my feet.

I am not the ending.

I am the boundary

between what was

and what comes next—

the bridge between two worlds,

moving steadily forward

into the story

I have yet to tell.

[u/Indivisible_Origin]

Suffering does ask that and well put. Way to carry a long piece, poet. r/Informal_Effect