the mercy that never comes

Greetings, my friends!

Many of you who know me personally know of my deep abiding love for science fiction and fantasy literature.

Authors like Asimov, Tolkien, and Gaiman (to name so so few!) have been ever-present fixtures on my bookshelves.

When trying to write “sci-fi” poetry, I acknowledge I run the risk of becoming too specific, nerdy, or simply… alienating. Pun intended. hehe

So, when I try to spread my “tattered seraphim wings” and create something odd and unique like this poem, I also try to focus on core literary elements along with broader themes beyond just the obvious science fiction tropes.

Even if you hate sci-fi, I am hoping you take the time to delve into the darkness of Nephelai and see this poem for its larger, layered ideas about our quest for something… more.

Very interested in hearing your thoughts and comments on this poem – and me trying out something different creatively. Comments below, please.

-PS Conway ☘ ☘ ☘

☘ ☘ ☘ ☘ ☘

the mercy that never comes

thunderclouds of Nephelai cling

in ivory finery to the towering

mesas and buttes breaching like altars

from the shallow black seas

roiling in Cimmerian shade

far far below

here in the silence of the apogee

on the threshold between air and void

but for a sacred moment

the god star shines its silvery white

returning hope unto the night

the Fallen rise from the depths

tattered seraphim wings lift them

like threadbare moths

just to feel its fleeting touch

cool caress on pale flesh

and they cry out

weep in their ancient tongue

to plead for the mercy that never comes


    1. It feels like the god star resurrects the dead for a few fleeting moments but their day cycle is so fleeting that these spirits will never be able enjoy this rebirth. It just makes them mourn all over again. It’s like the short life of a moth burned by a flame over and over.

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