Murcury is not dead 

Kill the message.

Kill the messenger. 

Murcury is not death, though

His is as deceiving as any one can tell

A theith and a lair, Larunda will not tell though

For cutthroat Jupiter hastily cut out her tounge 

You may think, that Murder has beseeched the messenger of the gods

You forgot they are just as tricksy as us if not more

But what else is a god, but the very hardened psychosis of us poorly mortals 

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