Mercy came knocking once, a pale wanderer draped in dawn, with weary eyes and gentle hands, carrying no sword, only the burden of understanding. But the wicked knew not her face. Their hearts were citadels of stone, where compassion died unnamed and every wound became a weapon. They barred the gates. For mercy is a stranger in the hearts of the wicked. She walks their halls unseen, a ghost among shadows, whispering of forgiveness to ears that worship vengeance. They drink from poisoned wells and call bitterness wisdom. They sharpen grief into blades and wear cruelty like a crown. Where mercy offers a bridge, they build a wall. Where mercy kneels, they strike. And so she leaves quietly, taking her light with her, while darkness settles deeper into chambers already cold. The wicked do not fear mercy, they fear what mercy reveals: that beneath their iron masks, beneath their kingdoms of pride, beneath the ruins they call strength, there lives a trembling truth they dare not face. For merc...
We broke apart while carols filled the air,
Lights blinking where your smile used to be,
Love once bloomed like a candle in darkness,
Now, wax and ash mark where it lay.
Silence used to pull us closer,
A quiet magnet between our eyes,
No words needed—just breathing together,
Two souls meeting without disguise.
Our feelings were once tangled forever,
Promises whispered without fear,
We believed time would kneel before us,
That love was safest this time of year.
But Christmas has a cruel way of shining,
It brightens what’s already gone,
Every song becomes a reminder
Of a future we won’t carry on.
The tree still stands, the gifts still wait,
But your name won’t be called tonight,
The candle flickers, fighting the cold,
Alone against December’s light.
It’s not just a breakup—it’s timing,
It’s loss wrapped in tinsel and cheer,
Heartbreak hurts louder in December,
When love leaves
On Christmas, Yours becomes_
The loneliest day of the year.
© 2025 Gloria Penelope
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