Merci
Done and dusted,the decision
hath been made,
no wriggle-room now, it's time
to remain steadfast with precision.
The two-headed serpent
condemned to its belly
ever changes its direction
with skill and no folly.
The pioneers of love fell to its powers
left tormented by the worldly troubles,
with no way out to make amends
are left to rue their cupidity.
The reoccurence already at hand
no more talk of it not happening again.
All that is left is no different similarities
but similar disparities.
Gratitude in words doth thou expresses
in no action it composes.
All it is to make culpability weakened
by no means make thou a deacon.
A man more sinn'd against than sin,
with no respite nor mercy given,
all he hears is cries of "merci"
which ring hollow in thy own ears.
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And on the seventh day, God rested.
