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...
No longer in my heart,
I mean you,
Oh yes, you.
There was a time
Your name lived softly within me,
echoing in places
I thought they were meant to last.
It felt real then,
It felt certain,
like something written
beyond doubt.
But time has a way
of revealing truth
without asking permission.
What we had
has reached its end.
Not in chaos,
not in fire,
but in quiet understanding.
Our destinies
walk different roads now.
No matter how we tried
to meet halfway,
something unseen
always pulled us apart.
Nothing aligns when we speak.
Words fall out of place,
meanings get lost,
and silence fills the space
where the connection once tried to live.
Our souls,
They do not match.
Not in rhythm,
not in purpose,
not in the language
They were meant to share.
It is not going to work.
It tried,
in moments,
in effort,
in hope.
But some things,
no matter how much they are held,
They are not meant to stay.
So now,
I release you
from the space you once had in me.
No longer in my heart,
not with anger,
not with regret,
but with clarity.
Because some endings
are not failures,
They are truths
Finally accepted.
© 2026 Gloria Penelope
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