Failing Mercy
Like me, she loves the rain
And dances with twists of fate,
Her past, also one with pain,
But she came into my life a bit too late.
I used all my poetry for somebody else,
To a specter haunting my dark rueful past,
Then she came in with hymns of wedding bells;
Signs of dim hope that love will finally last.
There will arise a better day,
May it be with her or once again alone,
If this is truly fate's new cruel play,
Mercy, for I'm already tired to the bone.
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