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...
Each morning begins with a choice,
A quiet promise, softly made.
To nourish more than hunger’s noise,
To honor the body we’re given to shape.
Greens glow bright upon the plate,
Fruits speak color into the day.
Every bite is fuel, not fate,
A step toward strength in a mindful way.
Water clears the tired mind,
Proteins mend what effort breaks.
Balanced meals, patiently timed,
Teach discipline, the soul partakes.
Then muscles wake beneath the sun,
Sweat writes truth upon the skin.
Every rep whispers, Don’t give up,
Every breath pulls courage in.
The body learns a stronger song,
Not rushed, not forced, but earned with care.
Progress moves when habits belong
To love, not punishment or despair.
This is not war with flesh or form,
But partnership, steady and kind.
Health is shaped where will is warm,
And discipline meets peace of mind.
So eat with purpose, move with pride,
Let patience sculpt what time allows.
The strongest body stands beside
A healthy heart that keeps its vows. 💪🥗
© 2025 Gloria Penelope
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