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...
Another year—yes, a new year indeed,
Let us rejoice in its open door,
Let us embrace each other tightly,
Grateful for the breath we still hold, and more.
This year is a blessing we’ve lived to see,
While others fell just steps behind,
Some left this world a minute before,
A reminder of how fragile is time.
Life walks paths we cannot predict,
Tomorrow hides beyond our sight,
Yet here we stand, wrapped in God’s grace,
Held by His mercy through every night.
It is not luck that carried us here,
Nor strength alone that made us stay,
It is mercy—quiet, unseen, faithful—
Covering us up to this very day.
So let gratitude rise from our hearts,
For thankfulness is never in vain,
We are blessed to be here, alive, together,
Sheltered through joy and pain.
Today is enough. This moment is sacred.
Now is a gift we must not delay.
Another year, another chance—
Blessed to be here, right now, today.
© 2026 Gloria Penelope
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