The first four lines of this poem came from a movie called Identity. They stuck with me for a while but seemed incomplete. It needed a conclusion. So I tried to give it one and it went on and on until I ended up with this:
As I was going up the stairs
I met a man who wasn't there.
He wasn't there again today;
I wish, I wish he'd go away.
I talked with him for quite a while.
I said, "You don't exist!" He smiled
And said, "I know I don't, but you
Keep me alive." Somehow I knew
The truth of his identity,
But still refused to let my plea
Be heard. Instead I fed him more;
This man who didn't exist but bore
A striking similarity
To voiceless words of clarity
From days gone by. I asked again,
"If your existence still depends
On me then how is it that I
Cannot eradicate this lie
That takes on life and gives you breath?"
He said, "The rumors of my death
Were false. It's you, not me that died,
Remember? I'm alive!" I tried
To figure out this mystery;
For until now his history
Had been a shadow, nothing more.
And now he'd come back to restore
My mind to blissful ignorance.
I wept. I could not seize the chance
To escape this massive burden.
Was he my own Tyler Durden?
He laughed, "I'm more than that, you fraud!
It's not that simple!" "Oh dear God!"
I cried; I knew. "That's why I act
The way you do in all you lack,"
He said. But knowledge still implied
The breath of life in that which died.
He laughed and roared as I grew weary
Of this game, but slightly leery
Of his brazen insolence.
From him or me I know not whence.
How could this deadly villain be
Alive, but not, yet charging me
With stealing his identity?
'Twas then I sought to find the key
To this enigma. So confused
Was I that he had died but used
The life I gave him. Or did he
Give birth to my hypocrisy?
I shouted, "Was it I or you
That fed the beast?" My anger grew
To fury as I sought relief
From my tormented disbelief.
And then I turned the light on just
As I began to wipe the dust
From off the cover of the book
And found my place. His features shook
And trembled now as I recalled
Those grand old truths. He sat appalled
As I began to read about
The Second Adam. And no doubt
The reason that I was alive;
The book of Romans, chapter five.
"You've had your reign, and for a time
Will still continue to remind
Me of myself, but you are not
What will define this molded pot
Of clay. There is Another who
Has died so that the one you slew
Could rise with Him as He declares
The truth that you no longer share."