I awoke with this concept rolling through me. When I tried to verbalize it, it proved to be a poem (who knew). It won't make sense to all... but it's real, and it's the battle inside me.

"THE COMBATANTS"
The bastard self,
That voice so clear,
The one that whispers in my ear,
"That's all you've got.
You mustn't try,
For if you do you will surely die,
Or worse yet fail."

The New Man me,
The me complete,
It's he who must come to compete.
His voice rings out,
"The deed is done!
By grace I have already won.
Now is just to show it for the One,
Who wrote the tale."

Geno