The World

Some say the world is merciful

They point to shaded patches of grass
Where we sit, beside flowing water
They point to the fruit trees, bearing gifts
They point to a breeze blowing across your lover's body

Some say the world is merciless

They point to men rotting in alleys
Ground under
They point to mothers grieving dead sons
Mutilated on the steppes, and to betrayal

But I say :

The mercilessness of the world
Can be merciful, like a cool cloth during fever

The mercy of the world
Can be merciless, like cold steel cutting a tumor

That's a bit of what they say
And a bit of what I say

What do you say?