Author’s Note

For a long time, I treated parts of myself like enemies.

The anger. The depression. The anxiety. The numbness. The intensity.

I thought healing meant defeating those parts—silencing them, overpowering them, forcing them out of existence.

But that mindset turns your own mind into a battleground.

This piece uses the language and imagery of Mortal Kombat because fighting games have always fascinated me symbolically. Every character feels like an exaggerated emotional state: rage, grief, control, fear, vengeance, power, identity.

And sometimes living with mental illness feels exactly like that: constant internal matches, different versions of yourself stepping into the arena one after another.

But the ending became something unexpected while I was writing it.

Because eventually I realized: the goal isn’t to destroy the shadow.

The shadow is still part of me.

This piece stopped being about conflict halfway through writing it.

It became about coexistence.

— Rowan Evans

The Shadow and the Spark
Poetry by Rowan Evans

Sometimes I lose sight of me,
and honestly,
I don’t like this side of me.
When darkness takes over
inside of me—
it seeps out, Noob Saibot,
shadow right beside me.

I’ve weathered storms,
in Netherrealm—
trapped in Mortal Kombat
with a version of myself.

Bi-Han
versus
Kuai Liang

And that’s just one side of me,
I’ve got the fire of Hanzo Hasashi—
it burns deep inside, smoldering.
Shirai Ryu and Lin Kuei,
fire and ice, inside of me.

It’s a feeling, I can’t escape—
Sindel screams inside my brain.
Skull rattles, skeleton shakes,
it’s a fatality that shakes me awake.

The shadows
try to silence—
screams,
fire and
ice collide—
steam.

It’s pressure
released.

But it’s still a war inside,
even when I can’t see.

Shadows move.
Screams echo.

Kindling ignites.
Water freeze.

Each takes its place
center stage,
face to face—

round one.
Round two.
Flawless victory.

The shadow
beat the scream,

silenced the noise.

And the next battle
takes place—
two elements step in,
who’s going to win?

Fire and ice,
passion and apathy—
I say “get over here,”
to those in need.

So passion takes the lead,
but the shadow creeps—
it seems to come from
anywhere and nowhere,
above, below—
from where it’ll strike,
no one knows.

Pause.
Select fighter.

Shit’s about to get
electric,
Raiden is on the move—
Noob gets a shock to the system.

Shadow shocked.

Uppercut. (Toasty!)
Stage shift.

New arena
but the fight
continues.

The shadow
and the spark—

the light
and the dark—

—but neither side
can truly win.

Finish him?

No.

I’m tired
of fighting myself.

So I lower my fists,
let the arena lights dim—

and for the first time,
the shadow
stands beside me
instead of against me.

Because the shadow
is still me.

The fire
is still me.

The scream,
the silence,
the ice,
the lightning—

every fighter
shares the same
player.

Controller shaking
in my hands,
I finally understand—

this was never
about victory.

Only survival.

Journey into the Hexverse…

Previous:
[East Knows My Name]
A deeply introspective poem about emotional displacement, cultural disconnect, and feeling spiritually drawn toward a place far from where you were born.

[Out of Sync]
A reflective free verse poem about emotional displacement, shifting sleep cycles, and feeling spiritually drawn toward another side of the world.

[The Waves That Call Me]
A reflective free verse poem about doubt, perseverance, and learning to trust the pull toward the life you truly want.

Upcoming:
[Finish What You Started]
A dark introspective poem about confronting the past, carrying old versions of yourself, and realizing that the only way forward is through the fire.

[Altars and Roses]
A gothic free verse poem about poetic identity, recurring symbolism, devotion, and the quiet humanity beneath dramatic imagery.

If you’re interested in more poetry, you can find it here → [The Library of Ashes]