The Duality of Man

There is part of me that I hate
And not only do I hate it, I fear it
To fear yourself is not healthy
I would rather respect myself then hate myself
Nevertheless there is a part of me that causes fear
Because I know what it is capable of
It thirsts for violence, to feel life slip out from beneath his fingers
To pillage and destroy and take only for his own
Wishing for a satisfaction that defiles the royal law
By murder and orgy and selfishness and pain
Even using rape as a tool to bring about the fire of doom
Desiring to be the worst of all the worst
To damn ever soul through disease and torture
So others will know pain and be at the mercy of his whips
Calling for the free man to slit his wrist
In order that the rush of blood will release him from his cage
He wants nothing more then to be loosed
To master the universe and become the very God that he hates
This is the left over fragment I spoke of
An older presence from a younger age
So dark and vile that the thought of it makes me cringe
What to name this creature of mine is up for debate
For he feels like man, machine, and deity.
Is it a state of mind or is it an actual person?
Is it an undead me or is it flesh that won't yield to crucifixion?
Is it one of many faces a man carries,
Or is it a fact that there is a deeper carnal existence in all?
Did I evolve from something so primitive,
That it wished to destroy everything in light of preservation?
Was it created in the framework of protection,
To keep the demons at bay by becoming a devil?
I don't know what or who it is but I hate it
If I could remove it and never see it again I would
At in instant I would cut it's ugly head off
For it does not agree with the man I've become
A man of peace and civility that wishes harm on no man
I take offense to think that this was just a coping mechanism
To me this was an entity that did not and does not belong
Something born out of an ancient darkness
Coming up from an underworld beneath the pits of Hell
The spirit of an idea which was born through slaughter
This thing is evil, perverse, causing sin to overtake holiness
How can a preacher of righteousness be overcome by perversion?
Yet I deal with this everyday
I'm afraid to look in the mirror
For fear I may see the man I hate
Disgusting and disfigured, covered in the blood of his victims
It's a dual to the death and I fear that the me I want to be
Will never be strong enough to defeat this beast,
This shadow man that looks and is undoubtedly part of me