Mercy, it’s in our prayers
and it’s our biggest cancer,
societies poison, humanities pill,
it’s mercy, the sweet nectar of power
at mercies behest some plunder and steal.
Mercy, it both separates
and connects us to the animal kingdom.
The power of mercy
bestowed upon lords,
the bedrock of hierarchy
and so much more.
Mercy, the noose around the neck
of the 21st century serf,
the promise of subjugation
the promise of death by a thousand cuts,
mercy, so misunderstood in a merciless world.
Take my hand,
you are still my light
in the dark.
You just are,
my very own sun,
such a beautiful star.
Where you are,
is the place
that I seek from afar.
This times ours,
forever we stand
heart to heart.
What is constant in a world of moments,production is in abundance yet so many are still hopeless?So what is always in a world of ‘never’in a world of sometimes,what’s forever?Dreamt a thousand dreams.Hoped forevermore,for brighter days for the pooror just a chance at it,a shot at a future, a slice of hope,because while at times it shines here,the rains been constantand the joy has always been brief,yet the pains so constant.
𝒜𝓈𝓎𝒶 𝒱𝒶𝓁𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑒, 𝐵𝓊𝓈𝓎 𝐼𝓃 𝒲❁𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇
Radicalised by pain,
sufficiently conditioned to reject
the meritocratic myths and
barely interested in conditional freedoms,
liberal bourgeoisie notions of self,
the sort of ideas that pave the good intentions to hell.
The sort of hell fashioned by the idea that our practices,
our ways of organising are anything more than ideas…
anything more than the brain children
of those who existed in a society prior
– the sort of society that they themselves once wished to redefine.
𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴,
𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴
𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘷𝘶𝘭𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦;
𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯
𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘦𝘯.
𝘛𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘭 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘴,
𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘢𝘭 – 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘦𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥
𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘺𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘴,
𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘯𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥
𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘭 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵.
𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵 𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘴.
𝘗𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵 𝘢 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴,
𝘪𝘧 𝘴𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘩.
𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘯,
𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯.