Mercy Should'Ve Killed Me

He lived to strive toward the light He reached to touch her halo of glory His solace and compass in coldness of night Flighted companions in moth to flame story Headed by perfect though blinded ambition Placed on pedestal compound clouds Left to be burnt beyond recognition Grounded by hurdles and shadows of doubt Beckoning over some lost mountain dews Summoned and broken in every way Down in the dirt roads of minuscule views Self loathed and lynching the order of day Driven by fragile wings aflutter Subtle assassin hypnosis in tune Baroness flight where angel wings suffer Forcibly taken from lonely cocoon Filling the lungs with breathes of love Choking on words that once relayed trust Ashes on white feathered wings of a dove Betrayal of concepts spurred to combust Voice box burnt in scrambled confusion Battered in silent dark without choice Toe end of star embossed blanket illusions Struggling to find the way with no voice Prettied and buffed up, only to hide The human condition, by the sound of it Pretty damn close to losing his mind Grown up to rise and snap out of it Metamorphoses mailing wings to thee Adapting to change, forgetting to fly Blinded and giving up hopes to live free Feeling uneasy when taking to sky Accept that he would’ve done all for her Mercy expects nothing less in return The wonders of love obscured by a blur Through eyes that could kill him but left him to burn