Angel of Mercy
You tell me of unimaginable things,
no lungs or breath to ever unspeak.
I am pushed into sparse mindscapes,
unseen acres allow endless germinations.
Yesterday is that which obsessively remains,
where I am selflessly engulfed in tomorrow.
In my ignorance to such woe and pain,
such sorrow.
This hour reimburses everything omitted.
and I am nothing.
I am nothing, my voice is deathly erased.
You, with rigour, inducer of mortis, and angel,
of darkness, and darkness holds you, culpable,
remover of shackles, lamb to the slaughter,
a loving Mother.
Copyright © Gary Gene Linney | Year Posted 2015
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