the drowning of poor Mercury

run, Mercury, run
stinking of blood and sweat.

you've your wings torn
and nowhere left to fly to
the mess of inky blood and feathers
lying in a pile to your feet
is getting thicker as you still stand still.
stranded. a mess.

your paranoia serves you well
they are after you. run.
run fast run now get out to where you are safe.

can you hear them? you can hear them.
you can taste them in your nose
as the air around them drifts toward you and you are stranded.

in the dark. everything is a wall
in the forest in the middle of the pitch-black night.
you move, you die. you stay, you die.
can you still feel your feet?

your movements betray you
your thoughts display you
as the morning fails again to break on the hill
where the hummingbirds buzz incessantly
in the wild roses.
laughing at you, with you.

you can't even stand up, can you?
the torrent is coming