They
buried her throne
They sat
her there.
They tied
her to a windsor chair.
All while
singing for mercy.
They beat
her blue.
They
turned her back.
They ran
her with a line of prozac.
All the
while singing for mercy.
It’s a
lone and a long walk to mercy.
She
called a trade.
She
kicked up twice.
She
spread her legs in a desperate heist.
All the
while singing for mercy.
She flipped
a smile.
She
measured due south.
She
whispered to the prison guard’s mouth.
All the
while singing for mercy.
It’s for
mercy. Not for her mercy.
They tied
her eyes.
They cut
her ears.
They put
her in a thousand mirrors.
All the
while singing for mercy.
They
burned her sun.
They shattered
her sight.
They took
away all her might.
All the
while singing for mercy.
Not her
mercy. It’s for mercy.
For their
long walk alone to mercy.
Cry out
for mercy. Stand for mercy.
All we
have left in the end.
Is mercy.