Mar 15, 2016

In every form of madness, it was well believed in the divided mind of Thomas Rivenport, there were always two opposing, yet equally matched sides. Be it within the struggles between flesh and spirit, decay and sustenance or dark and light, once all the pawns were disposed of, all of the knights’ horses cut out from beneath them and all of the castle walls were fallen, two kings would stand across a vacant board littered with the ruin of their armies.

Dark and light then faced off.

The dark’s greatest armament, he conjectured further, was the simple impression that gray was the truth. Donning this façade, it would even deny its own existence, claiming that the idea of opposites was a myth conjured up by proponents of the light, for nothing would exist if their assumptions were true. For if equal opposites existed, they would surely cancel each other out.

Therefore, the two enemies, each dependent upon the perpetuity of the other, were locked in the gray and thus demonstrating the tragedy of existence, like Narcissus gazing into a dried-up lake, his only reflection being his shadow cast upon the sand. The masks of comedy and tragedy, hanging from a cord on the branch of a nearby tree, sway in the breeze.