Symphony of the Medial

A man's conflicting nature that made him produce a clone with same features.. However the catch is in, who is more willing to be faithful to their mysterious potential?

The clone slept in,

Dazed with thoughts full of himself,

He slept knowing his ancestor was sleeping too,

He followed along the chores,

Clashing thoughts penetrated his one track mind

Questioning the clone's individuality.

He chuckled knowing he had no individuality

Only his ancestor did,

His ancestor was a simple sober with a pinch of a quintessence

Always insignificant to his eyes 

But exceptional to his heart.

The clone become aware, 

Aware of being his ditto

And detached himself from his ancestor,

Because for once he got out of the monotonous chores

And experienced what was out of the sobriety,

A pinch of intoxication

That made sense to him and only him.

The ancestor lost his sense,

"I was supposed to follow this sobriety and so was he!

There was no choice to begin with!"

The lightening of judgement struck

That seemed to unveil from the ancestor's psyche,

He was told to go back to the old ways,

To the laborious burden of being sober and aware,

The plain passion of his

Igniting with only a little bit

Of the available intoxication it had let 

Said

"I can survive, Struggle..

You must Struggle..

Confront your wit.."

The clone stood there

Handing out his hand,

But he turned 

And the ancestor went back, 

To his old footsteps,

Maintaining the same homogeneity,

Although this time, the ancestor did the chores

And slept in,

Dazed with the thoughts of the clone..

But was he the ancestor now, or was he the clone?

Only the clone knew better,

And the ancestor?

He lives with the flame of sobriety. 

Author's Note

Before explaining the poem, I would like to tell the readers that it's a very complicated poem which I wrote out of fluidity. It's really long and the explanation is far more complex but the people who are afraid to go out of their comfort zone should definitely relate to this! I myself have been struggling with it. The potential I carry and the way I just fail to recognise that I can do exceptional things too, by saying that being normal would solve everything.. it's because I refuse to accept that I can do more. So, enjoy this poem with a little strong orchestral music:D

'Clone - Produced asexually from one ancestor or stock, to which they are genetically identical.'

This poem talks about a person with conflicting thoughts of someone who is a simple person with no ulterior motives. He has two thoughts - one, where he knows he will gain peace only when he is normal and does not do anything out of the ordinary; two, he feels deep down that he can do more than his daily routines and step out of his comfort. The man depicts himself not as one but two individuals. Because he feels he is capable of being more than just being one person he acknowledges to be. He imagines his real self to be the ancestor and his passion to do more as a clone who is also stuck in the same wavelength like a normal person who follows societal values. However, the latter just decides that he cannot keep up with everything being as it is and needs a change to know his actual potential. The ancestor too, some what shows that he is perfectly doing his chores as he should be but he too cannot settle with that fact and he is aware of that. His heart says he is exceptional because he knows he has that flame in him however his devious mind just thinks of him as a person who is not important to himself. The clone knows what goes inside the ancestors mind because they are connected and they are the same yet they have differences in how they can pursue things. So the clone got out of his regular chores and made a great leap of faith by trusting himself (which the ancestor is capable of doing too yet he self doubts but his other self realised it first i.e., his instinctual passion- the clone) and it made sense to him because he was out of the comfort zone. The ancestor thought this was wrong and this should not have been a choice and his mind encouraged him to think that way and was told to go at the position used to be in; being normal. However his heart said to struggle and confront the mind that this is not what he wanted. And the clone still stood for the ancestor and reaching out for him to grab his hand and believe in himself but the ancestor turned and went back because he did not want to move out of his comfort zone. He thought it was a right decision but deep inside he knew he was a coward who walked on the lines of what the society determined him to be. Although this time he was the one who saw the chores being done, its was all so simple but it was not enough to make him happy. He was normal but now, he thought about the clone who had now turned into the actual individual self of the man and was happier than the actual thought of the man i.e., the ancestor. The ancestor had now turned into a clone working everyday for being a normal person with no motives or passion. He had no intention of doing anything out of the ordinary. However the clone was the ancestor now and he knew newly-turned clone's pain but he couldn't do anything to help him because he had made his decision. And the previous ancestor now lived a life based on the norms which he thought were appropriate and self satisfactory however he had only the flame of being normal and not exceptional and so he used that flame till the day he died of monotonous labour.