Mercy is a talisman for arrant knights marooned
A boon and a bane for the warrior doomed
Mercenaries cringing invoke the heart of grace
But the midwife to ferocity staring death in the face
Stands no nonsense from charmer or rake

Unabashed rashlings spurred by the lash
Fear her dreadless daring and swaggering dash
A tyrant's henchmen ransack and steal
But hireling defenders skulk and turn tail
When mercy turns mercurial and ends the fairy tale

She becomes the tactician of the tender kill
Fighter and fugitive succumb to her skill
A blood red quill transcribes her will
The water of life she pours and distils
And the kindly milk of clemency dries before it spills

Written by © Nevada Kerr
7th January 2003.