In Mercy

Where is the joy
Without the pain?
A fanciful world
And yet, no gain
For the constant light,
Eternal pearls
That baulk at night,
That run on evens,
Flee the whorl
Of uncertainty-
The lossless fight
That bruises and buries 
But renders clarity.
For all the wounds
That grind the spirit,
That bend us low,
It is a kind
Of charity.