"Oh, come away with me
to a land where you'll be free;
a place where all can achieve
if you only just believe.

Follow me, my friend,
take this journey to the end.
Take my hand and you will see
just how much you mean to me.

As its beauty you inhale, you'll
not desire to go back,
to that place of woe from whence
you came,
a place riddled by such lack.

So take my hand and soon you'll be
in a picturesque land of great jubilee,
where there's never need to beg
or borrow,
and no one ever worries
for tomorrow."

Said the spider to the fly
just before its time to die....

~ Lol!~



-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

Let us play today
It’s all about You and Me
Scented candles burn

Tease me like you do
A sweet agony endured
Minds devoid of Sense

Toys all meant for play
Fantasies will come to Life
Sighs will linger here.

Fetishes will rule
Inhibitions find no place
Among these ruins.


-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

You bleed and
you wither,
and you bruise
and you shatter,

though, outwardly,
most can’t tell,
blinded and deafened
by their own
inane chatter,

as you slowly
and cursedly die,
it just doesn’t seem
to matter.


-by Mercurychyld
Copyright 28 Jan 15

Many decades ago you chose
to walk away.
And even as I wished and
prayed for otherwise,
I knew...you would not stay.

Too many times as I endured
my hardships and cried
lonely tears,
I swore in my heart, if Papa
were here, for sure, he'd
chase away my fears.

But you were never there to
swathe or console me,
as the painful, sordid events
in this life stood to chain
and control me.

Mama's 'men' came and went,
but not before each cut deep
scars into the bark of my soul.
Deadly, wild parties were had,
no fairy tales here to extol.

What I truly wanted...needed
from You, Papa, would have
cost not one dime;
all I ever really wanted...needed
from You, Papa, was nothing
less, nothing more than...
your TIME.

There is just SO much more
this torn heart wants to say,
but alas, my spirit, so tired,
so frayed, chooses instead
to tuck away the words...
for another day.



-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

In this life,
though we may
squirm and fight,
we all long for
that perfect love.

Perfect, not to
the world perhaps,
but perfect enough
for us.

Many come and go,
leaving behind
remnants of their
futile attempts at
engaging your heart.

Then one came
and found me,
drowning in the
filth and muck of
heartbreak,
and breathed new life…
into me.

At first, going on
Instinct
I reacted in the
twisted ways
I’d learned.

Dysfuntion
was all I knew.
Nothing was healthy,
nothing was ever honest
or real,

but,

in his eyes
I found devotion;
Love unconditional,
the kind only written of
in myths and legends.

I am, slowly, learning
to trust and see
Truth in his eyes.

In his arms
I found
my comfort,

and in his eyes
I finally allowed
myself to see…

forever
and what beauty
can actually be.

~by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

I see what you're doing; I know what you are.
Seen you travel some distance through
this lyrical bar.

I know your particular flavor,
as you 'give' yet leave nothing
to savor.

Did you say it all...did you feed your
callous need?
As your 'so called' critiques and comments
just left another to bleed?

How 'brave' you are behind your avatar,
but you see,
You've done little, if anything, to honestly
impress me.

You use your lack of diplomatic restraint
to simply crush spirits and leave behind
a dark, bitter taint.

Did you say all you needed, does is make
you feel better?
To ruffle thin feathers; crippling feelings
altogether?

I know what you're doing; I could BE you,
if I very well wanted to!

The bile and power of your word,
leaves poor souls understanding
that their thoughts and opinions, to you,
are absurd.

Time after time I read your insolent speeches
on many a blog,
as you spew forth your 'wisdom', dispensing
a high voltage flog.

I know what you're doing; I could BE you,
if I very well wanted to!

Unlike YOU, 'friend', I prefer to pay visits
and leave a word of kindness;
never leaving them with lyrical blindness.

Sometimes I may read, and have nothing
to say...if their words overwhelm, hit a nerve,
or inspire my mind to stray...to a place of
recognition...far, far away.

I just felt this deep need to express,
how you're grating on my nerves;
with your sour, evil comments
just disguised as 'clever words'.

Go on now, my 'friend', try to pen
words that INSPIRE...
I promise I'll be kind, even as
I unleash my fire...
unto the likes of you...
such a mean spirited shrew!

So next time, give great thought
to your comment before you click away,
'cause I know many a great poet here,
that by YOUR cold, pathetic words...
will NOT be chased away!




-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

As I sit and watch the leaves
falling off the branches of trees
I can't help but wonder how it would be
to have our most painful memories just fall away.. like withering leaves.
But then I remember that it is there, in the midst of
painful moments,
when we crash against those immovable rocks that the most resilient of character in us is
coaxed out of the darkness
and brought forth...
into the light.



By Mercurychyld
Copyrights

That fluffy little kitty cat,
on the window sill she sat.

She licked and cleaned and groomed her hair,
just living life without a care.

Her daily thoughts were simple and pure,
of meals and treats, and she, demure.

Never did she bother thinking
that our days upon this earth were shrinking.

Seldom did she dream of love,
or of flying creatures just above.

That kitty cat, she walks the line.
Cool kitty cat, and she’s all mine.


-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

My heart never stops
breaking, caving into
itself.
I’m often so surprised
to have any pieces left.
I never wanted to
be like “her”; like my
mother, yet here I sit,
thinking, feeling,
full of guilt.

A guilt that never wanes
or ever could.

I read many books,
many genres.
Some truly make
me face what my heart
knows too well;
this deep sense of guilt.

As I read of characters;
multifaceted, complex men
who step up and love
and raise their sons
and daughters,
I am reminded,
time and again,
that MY sons do not,
or ever will have,
that kind of blessing.

No great male example
to learn from,
to spend time with,
to show them how to
become good Godly men.

Those moments cause me
to question and doubt
myself, as a mother.

I never wanted to be
like “her”; my mother,
with her revolving door
of ****** men
for one reason or another,
yet here I sit,
thinking, feeling,
reminded of how I too
have failed.

The sins of the parents
shall be visited upon
the children…
for that I’m so
very, very sorry
My sons.

The hot tears fall
and the heart disintegrates,
and the anger-sadness grows…
anger mainly at myself.

MY DECISIONS have
brought us all to
where we are today.

Culpability overload.
I wonder, does God
blame me?
Will my sons?
Not that I would ever
blame either if they do.

If I could go back,
if I could begin again,
what would I change?

This is the question
as the familiar pangs
of guilt grow like weeds,
and never subside.

To my sons,
for all of my mistakes
and wrong decisions,
both before and after
your births,
decisions that leave
imprints on your
lives as well…

I am Forever sorry.


-by Mercurychyld
Copyright 12 Oct. 15
Monday

Ahhh...

Let us go,
together,
you and I

down into
the rabbit hole.

Let me be...
your filling dessert,
your wicked garden.

Pluck the thorny rose
and warm the frigid
tundra,
with the warmth of
your honey wine.

Become...
my silvery
dark prince
in that vase
field of gold.

As your lips,
the heat of your
breath,
the timber of your
whispered sweet
nothings,
your skillful hands,
and the story in
your eyes...
send chills of ecstasy
down my spine

and impassioned fumes
besiege my mind.

Let me..
get under your skin,

Let me...
****** you..
from within.

Take my hand,
follow me

together we'll be
free.

You and I,
together as one
shall go...

down, into
the rabbit hole.



-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

You left me yesterday,
as many times before.
Left me as you found me;
often knocking
at your door.

When you left
I did not cry.
Found fierce pain and sorrow,
yet I did not die.

I, a lonely, broken child
filled with
fractured thoughts
and rage,
still you opened up
my book of life,
and began a
brand new page.

Desperate for a friend
who would somehow
understand,
I found in you a comrade
who took me
by the hand.

I realize now
I pushed to hard;
overwhelmed you
with my need, but,
in you I saw an image
of me,
and in my soul
grew a shameless
greed.

The years went by,
you came and went
and often disappeared,
though I knew you
weren’t quite ‘gone’,
‘cause I always
felt you near.

Then one day
you broke my heart,
as you truly left,
with no trace
or goodbye.

The space you built
within my life
would not again be
filled.

At times I remember
how you colored my life,
and I retreat to my
hidden place,
and take the time
to cry.


-by Mercurychyld
Copyright 11 Jan 2015

The truth lies
not in her eyes,
for she learned
long ago
how to forge
desperate lies.

It's as she was
conditioned to do...
to tell lies
with her eyes,
and beguile
with her smile.

The truth lies
not in her eyes,
but if you must know
just where her
verity dwells...

it's in her voice...

the timber,
the rhythm,
the words,
the whispers
in the sound.

It's in her voice
that her truth
will be found.

Can you hear it?




By Mercurychyld
Copyrights

At times, the silence
feels as oppressive
as tar,
and just as dark.

When the family
members are gone,
be it to school or work
or wherever,

I take the opportunity
to let her out;
the little girl with
all the scars,
who lives inside…

of the walls,
in between the halls
of my very being.

She cautiously walks along,
quietly,
and finds her spot
among the shadows.

There, she can
taste her fears,
and cry her tears…

with no one the wiser,
no witness to be found,
except the very
walls and halls,

but they can hold
a secret,
or a confession,
with the utmost
discretion.

Standing at a distance,
I allow her her space…

space for expression,
respite from depression,
safety from oppression,
room for regression.

The clock keeps ticking;
it never slows or stops.

She knows the hour
will come for her to,
once again,
return to the place
in which only she
resides,
inside.

Holding on
(for dear life),
till the next chance
she’ll come out,
once again,

for an ever needed
escape
from the tempermental
holds of our
Reality.


-by Mercurychyld
Copyright 29 Jan 15

The many highways and varied roads we travel each day
are lined with much danger and pent up rage.
A sense of anger that is a constant potential time bomb
just waiting to go off.

Many paths are taken at every moment of our lives.
Some roads are quiet, surrounded by solitary vegetation,
some roads are long drawn and monotonous, coaxing you
to fall asleep at the wheel.
Still, others are surrounded by dread and danger on
either side...here, safety is a seldom seen luxury.

TICK TOCK, TICK TOCK...
LISTEN TO THE EERIE BEATING
OF THE CLOCK!

You have only to watch your daily news to witness
countless examples of a festering that every day,
in different ways, just boils over to a culminating
point where both victim and victimizer take a
proverbial bullet.

Children killing children, mama's selling themselves
to feed one or more 'juniors', daddy...where is
daddy in most cases?

TICK TOCK, TICK TOCK...
LISTEN TO THE EERIE BEATING
OF THE CLOCK!

These pathways and roads on life's highways are
littered with our minute to minute decisions and
bring equal consequence at every turn.
Many times the challenge becomes exiting any
number of one way streets where hate and
collective fury reside, and finding passage to the
expressway leading to boulevards of understanding,
compassion and an enlightened view of our
fellow commuters.

TICK TOCK, TICK TOCK...
LISTEN TO THAT EERIE BEATING
OF THE CLOCK!

Soon...very soon...this world; our world, the only
one we've got...will implode then explode then ball
itself up into a fetal position, and finally drink its
own bitter, fallout tainted tears as each last
survivor...remembers...what once was...

TICK TOCK, TICK TOCK...
LISTEN TO THAT EERIE BEATING
OF THE CLOCK!

I'm afraid...YOUR TIME IS UP!!!




-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

Confined and trapped,
Imprisoned within
his own form.
Unable to move,
Unable to walk,
Unable to utter a word..
Paralyzed;
he watches the world
around him.

A spectator who
can only observe
and wonder.

He tries to reach out
with his mind,
hoping somehow
someone will pick up his
psychic frequencies
like radio waves.

Keen and intelligent.
A genius that cannot be
Expressed or easily shared.

Misfortune has kidnapped
his existence and held
it for ransom.

Life goes on each day,
people sleeping,
waking, eating, playing,
working, praying.

All he can do is watch it
through the camera lens
of his inquisitive eyes.

So much to say,
yet no one to hear him.
So much to touch,
yet no one can feel him.

How long will his
prison hold him…
no one can say.

Life will go on each day,
as it always does,
and his debt will be paid
in broken pieces of his heart
and shattered slices of
his sanity.

And he shall ever be, merely…
a watcher.


-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

There was a woman once,
a woman on a long trek
through the desert.

She was on a mission,
to find herself
and to BECOME…
the woman her late
beautiful mother
had raised her to be.

This woman was mad,
adventurous, often careless,
and utterly inspiring.

I began to envision
my own life;
my own mission in
that vast desert,
and realized that I too
was striving to BECOME…
to UN-become
all the things my own
mother taught me to be,
for her own twisted purpose,
her own power trip
and narcissistic need,
and draped in convenient
deafness and blindness.

Never did I imagine
the excruciating journey
or detestable, bitter path
this un-becoming
would ultimately be,
for me.

Like a puzzle of
a thousand pieces,
torturously forced together,
whether they fit, or not,
the un-becoming entails
shattering, finally, the mirror
image once created
and wrapped around you
like a paralyzingly layer of skin,
and carving out,
from the leftover,
a new image;
the true image
of who I am…

whomever that may
one day be.


-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

He is the painter,
painting images of
desperate desire
and vistas of love
and secret knowledge,
upon her skin.

Each patient and
skillful brushstroke,
weaves obscure
and cryptic symbols
in subtle, vibrant
tones upon the
supple texture of
her curving form.

She is a leather bound
notebook,
swelling with promise
of verses and poems
yet to be birthed.

He is the quill,
his ink flowing
abundantly,
spilling fertile words...

filling her every page.






-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

The morning comes
and the alarm sounds,
alerting me that its
time to get up
and begin our
morning routine.

First day
of the new
school year.

I watch as
my sons get
dressed,
eat breakfast,
and ready for
their first day.

Nerves are rumbling
in little stomachs,
but, there is also
a sense of excitement
at the thought of
seeing old friends.

This day reminds me
of renewal,
and the beginning,
ending, a new beginning
of stories and chapters
already lived,
and stories yet to be
played out
on life’s
proverbial stage.

They are my heros,
my little ones,
in more ways
than one.

I only pray
their first day
is better than
mine used to be,
growing up.

They are not
as awkward or shy
or broken,
full of attacks of
nerves and anxiety,

almost to the point
of crippling,
or doubling over
with stomach pains,
all from the stress...

of the first
day of school.


-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

Perception, my Queen
Battles fought and lost in Ire
Tempted to lash out

Emotions aroused
Moods kindled in Fire
Umbrage is provoked

Insanity rules
Trangression is drug of choice
Penance never paid

Sanity long gone
A new face in the mirror
Mayhem’s melody


-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

I will end this.
I will end this...Now!

I will escape your
Covert manipulations.

Under the guise of
“This is for your
Own good” or
“I have the solution.
My way is best”,
You plant rancid
Seeds of cunning
Deceit, and reap
My resentment.

You think your
‘Punishments’
Will make me
Feel powerless,
Submissive,
Intimidated
And lead to my
Destruction?

How wrong
You are;
How you
Underestimated
Me.

Surprised you
Didn’t I?

I am fully grown
And i’ve survived
Other devils
Uglier and sicker
Than you.

Marriage is but
Another cage...
A gilded cage,
Covered in false
Promises
And grandiose lies,
And empty words...
Of l-o-v-e.

The fragile,
Broken shell
Of a girl I used
To be is no longer
Here.

This day,
This time,
This moment
I would take
3 steps back,
And quietly
Slither away,
Like the snake
You are.

No longer tethered
To you.
No more platinum
Chains to
Choke me

‘Cause

I no longer
Give...a...****!

I have nothing
To lose.
I’m a danger...
To you.

So today,
My ‘friendly’ advice
To you is...

Heed my warning,
‘Cause I’ll only
Say this once...

Step the f**k
Back.

The claws are out,
The fangs are bared,
And I dare you...

Come closer...
I won’t bite
(Only rip out
Your jugular).

I promise!

(She said with
A wicked grin)



~by Mercurychyld
Copyright 24 july 14

It never lasts…
not long enough.
Always fleeting,
temporary,
gone all too soon.
It’s a tease with
no ‘happy ending’.

Every so often
you get a piece,
just a small fragment,
just as quickly departed,
right as you were
getting accustomed
to it.

A stunning box
with intricate,
abstract designs,
but what you don’t
notice, till way
too late, is
that if you hold it
close, right up
to the light,
you will see the
fine cracks.

You’ll see it start
to chip away
as you scratch
the surface
with your nail,
and chunks of
false paint fall
to the ground,
and you find the ugly,
rusted color underneath
its artificial chiseled skin,
an imitation of beauty
which can truly only
live and shine
within the jagged
confines of the
imaginative mind.

Nothing really brings
joy; not BEING
any of the things
we’re expected
or required to be…
not being a mother,
not being a wife,
not being a daughter,
not being a sister.

Nothing really brings
joy,
but when it seems
you finally catch
a glimpse of it,
even for a small
snippet of time,
you must, painfully,
realize that it was
just your
untrustworthy eyes…

playing cruel tricks.


-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

Who could’ve thought…
certainly not me…
how the fires of love
would burn so intensely,
and consume me
in the miniscule span
of three precious weeks.

Actually though,
it was longer;
it began
eight months earlier;
before the final
three weeks of  your
most cherished life.

It was before I
tenderly touched
your fragile skin,
so paper thin,
and looked into those
beautiful amber eyes,
when you’d open them.

My own amber eyes
looking back at me.
You were my mirror
and I had no idea, then,
just what I’d see,
or what YOU could see
as you looked right
into me.

You, my little one,
showed me a part of
myself I never thought
existed
before you.

If I hadn’t held you
for the treasured
time allowed,
if I hadn’t felt you
with my own skin,
seen you with my
own eyes,
reached out with my
own heart,
or enveloped you with
my own mind,
I wouldn’t have believed
how much the fickle
fires of the heart could
grow, expand and
utterly consume me,
in the span of those
three precious weeks.

The moment you exhaled
your last little breath
and died in my arms,
you took a piece of
my very soul
with you.

Keep it safe, my love.
You planted it deep
within you long ago,
allowing it to grow.

I love you always,
of that never, ever doubt…
till we meet again
my treasured
first born.

I missed you then,
I miss you still,
and for forever
always will.

-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights
~~~~~~~

~ In remembrance of my
Giovani, born and died
14 years ago this 5th
of July. Never forgotten.~
❤️

Snap, Crackle and Pop
Muscles flap and Joints will creak
The music begins.


-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

“Why drive through this reality sober
as conformity and vapid rules testify,
freedom of speech and opinion, over
but, on chemistry we can rely.”

Moved around from place to place,
people come and go,
friendships seldom found or made,
none can really know.

Sweet Mother died; gone much too soon
and dearest Father cracked.
Nothing else to do but howl at the moon
and brain cells laced with happy pills,
intended to distract.


-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

I stood back, and simply
watched..in silence..
as you went searching..
for me.

You searched everywhere,
high and low,
at every park,
in every bar,
through every store,
each passing car.

No stone did you leave
unturned,
and I, stood back and
simply watched..in
silence..as you searched
and searched..for me.

What you failed to
realize, as you
stepped all over reason,
and passed by every
rhyme,
was that I was there,
right there,
the whole entire time.

Always near,
never apart.

I was always there...
right under the surface
of your rhythmic,
beating heart.




-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

Frustration
Revelation
Desperation
no Elation,
compounded by
the heavy
Situation...at hand.

Pride
Implied
Simplified
Justified,
truth set
Aside...consolation banned.

Spying
Prying
Dying,
no Edifying,
Defying, while I,
Complying
Intensifying;
some day...must take a stand.

Condescend
Pretend
Offend
Contend,
then a friend to
Comprehend
I Transcend,
lividity's End,
peace will
Ascend...new life to expand.


~ Conclusion ~

Transformation
Purified
Satisfying,
lessons acquired
and generously
Penned.


-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

You see it coming,
for you,
or perhaps you don’t.

Either way
it comes full force,
creeping,
burning everyone
and everything
in its wake
(in its way),
like Lava;
red-hot,
sulfurous,
scorching,
till it reaches your feet.

It reaches you,
sweltering,
sizzling,
hissing at your heels,
but you continue
walking down
and over
along determined
path.

Others attempt
to run,
falling at your feet,
while they smoke
and hiss,
and death wraps
its tendril-like fingers
around their
throats;
many never
get away.

Lethal, angry
winds threaten,
mocking,
calling out
your undoing,
yet
you champion
through.

You’ve always
known this path,
drudging on
sometimes with
energy and
tenacious need...
to go on
and make
good time
to wherever
you’re ultimately
going,
many times
not even knowing
yourself,

yet persistence
wins out
as you diligently
force your feet
to keep moving...
forward,
never back.

Exhausted
but resolute,
you can’t see more
than three feet
in front of you,
often times
your poor vision
playing tricks
on you...
mirages,
misinformation,
erroneous
perceptions.

You can’t see
too far ahead,
but some voice
deep inside
tells you,
coaxes you,
gently,
to keep legs moving
and eyes front
and forward,
never back,
till you
finally arrive.

Seeing for the
first time,
with new,
clear vision,
that this walk
was purposeful
and not in vain.

This arduous hike
through storms,
enduring the
violent debris,
was not without
rhyme or reason...

it was a
necessary
journey as,
on this often
harried trek,
you found
nothing more
and nothing
less than...

who you are
and what you were
always meant to be,
and now
you’ll get to shine,
wild and bright

for all to see.


-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

In the end
the lone survivor
comes to learn,
a bit too late,
what is his, and their
and our
ultimate fate.

He learns that he,
and all fallen
comrades
were merely
chess pieces
on God’s
well worn
playing board.

Some pieces are
made of
wood,
some are made of
iron,
others still,
made of
stone,

but, they all fall
in the end.

One will drown,
one will fall off
a cliff,
and break his
neck,
and yet another
will get ripped apart
and eaten
by a pack of
rabid wolves,

but they all fall
in the end.

And only God decides,
who, what, where
and why.


- by Mercurychyld
  Copyrights

She awoke violently to the sound of blaring alarms coming from the outskirts of the city, or what was left of it after the chaotic state which had turned the entire planet into one giant slave to disillusionment and Marshall Law. Freedom and individuality were a thing of the past. Every citizen became nothing more than a number, and a dark and pure evil ruled over every meaningful facet of human existence.

Only by the grace of God was she even still alive and somehow managing to scrounge
and feed her two young ones...the only semblance of 'love' in her life of sorrow. They
were the only reasons she still found cause to smile, on occasion, amidst all the
frightening madness.

Running, hiding and finding shelter with two little ones in tow was an almost impossible
feat, especially in such a hostile environment. Nowhere to run, no one to turn to, she
did the best she could to keep herself and her boys from harm and complete sadistic violation at the hands of captors who would eagerly spill her blood, but not before forcing her to witness the abominable ****, torment and dismemberment of her two
precious ones...the mere thought and fear of such a thing drove her to the brink of a desperate madness only a loving parent could possibly understand. All she had left, her motivation to stay alive, her treasure, lived and breathed with those babies.

Something in her heart told her this night would be their last run together. She'd heard
from the voices throughout the streets, of the horrors others experienced at the blood thirty hands of these elite monsters running our world. She felt them close now, and there was nowhere left to hide.

She turned and saw a deep body of water only yards away and suddenly she knew what had to be done...a deep feeling of sickness and dread began to grow in her belly, and
the tears began to flow but she wiped her face and put on her most cheerful smile and took on a soft tone and gently took her two loves by the hands and whispered, "Come on boys, we're going for one last swim, take Mami's hands now, here we go." They whispered excitedly to each other and together they all walked into the water. For a moment she stopped and looked down at each of boys, and in her most loving tone reminded them how very much she adored them and that they were gifts from above
and she would never leave them; never. They smiled and said, "we love you too Mami..always and forever and ever", and they giggled.

With that, a solitary tear ran down her cheek, and as she walked and the water began to cover the boys, she squeezed their hands tightly as they began to struggle against the submersion and the choke of death; as she held them there and felt the life ebb away, her heart shattered completely and irreparably, and she felt her soul grow frigid cold and plunge straight into the depths of an unknowable despair.

When she felt the stillness of their little lifeless bodies, she began the trek back to land and tenderly placed each half of her heart right next to each other and kissed them, telling them how sorry she was, but that at least she had the peace of knowing that now her two precious boys were in the loving arms of God, along with their beautiful older brother, who had died years ago, shortly after his premature birth. She prayed to God for His tender mercy and understanding...this was the most horrid sacrifice she'd ever had to make...it was a mercy killing...an ultimate act of kindness and love.

As the bitter, arctic fingers of agony gripped her fractured heart, she held one little hand of each child and sat slumped and wracked with sobs and waited for her fate...and the evil to arrive.


-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

A place in the country is where I'll retreat.
A place in the country is where two will meet.
A place in the country is where I'll find peace.
A place in the country is where all stress will cease
Let's rest a while, you and I.
Let's lock away grief and worry.
Let's rest a while, you and I.
Life just goes by in such a hurry.



-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

Fleeting thoughts
come and go.

Full of trepidation
and broken bones

Looking, searching
wildly in the mind
for a place of solace,
just to rest
awhile.

Wondering, suddenly,
of Heaven
and its
blessed inhabitants.

How must it be,
what must they do?

I cannot begin to imagine,
but,
what I CAN say is
what they DON’T have.

They have no pain,
no sorrows or dark thoughts,
no hurts or anger
or fears.

Those days are over
for them,
if they had a life,
here.

We shouldn’t ‘envy’,
yes, I know this, but,
I do, I DO envy,
them
and what they
DON’T have,
of which I have
an abundance;
perhaps more than
my share.

I envy them,
and pray to have one day,
what they have,
so I can walk forward
and forget…

Forget the plethora
of trials and
tribulations
as endured by
you, me, us.

We that wake each day
on this volatile,
mercurial planet
we call…
home.


-by Mercurychyld
Copyright 28 Jan 15