God's Mercy rushed
over me,
enshrouded you
in its grace.

It washed us
clean,
its tide so calm, so pure.
It was my mother’s breathing,
your father’s laughter,
their chests rising and
falling.


It tore off our
skin
in another war of charity;
it peeled us
to the holy core.

Then all I knew was that
I felt safe with you.

Jesus, Jesus, Jesus.
Mercy, Mercy, Mercy.
Tanrı benim gücümdür.
Tanrım, lütfen beni koru.

Down from the imposing
basilica's dome,
to the pulpit's
booming drone,
to our soul's
cold sweat
after the angels have gone
to bed.

We saw it all with bloodshot eyes,
wondering how
we could flay ourselves
further yet.

Then all you knew was that
you were scared of yourself.

Jesus, Jesus, Jesus.
Mercy, Mercy, Mercy.
Tanrı benim gücümdür.
Tanrım, lütfen beni koru.