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...
You laugh at them.
You point your finger and call them a fool.
Their silence amuses you,
their gentleness becomes your joke,
and the crowd joins your laughter
as if kindness were weakness.
It feels enjoyable today,
sweet on your tongue like careless victory.
Their patience becomes your stage,
their humility your entertainment.
But time is a quiet witness.
It watches without speaking,
It writes its lessons slowly
in the turning pages of life.
A day will come
When laughter turns into tears.
The echoes of your mockery
will return to your own ears
like thunder across an empty sky.
Situations will arise without warning,
storms without hands to beat you
Yet heavy enough to break your pride.
Pain will arrive quietly,
And you will feel the trembling
of a heart that once laughed too loudly.
And that fool,
that funny person you once mocked,
may stand in the distance,
not laughing,
but witnessing your tears,
your shaking voice,
Your falling ego.
For life has a patient way
of bending the tallest pride.
It turns arrogance into reflection,
and loud laughter into silent regret.
Remember this:
Today you stand tall in pride,
but tomorrow life may whisper
a different story.
For life, in its quiet wisdom,
has a way of humbling us all. 🌿
© 2026 Gloria Penelope
Comments