He my soul relieves

a poem by Reginold Ajay Jacob, India

How many swords have been,
Thrust in my heart,
I cannot express,
Oh, my heart.

Yet I know It does pain,
Each wound leaves its stains,
And I cover its mark,
As one covers shame.

They are the men of words,
Men of empty words,
Who speak of sureties,
Which are always undone?

Where should I begin,
Where should I end,
Oh my dear I simply,
Can't ever understand.

From the day I stood on my feet,
They have robbed me every time,
Wearing different vestures,
Yet hurting every time.

I would have perished,
By their continuous repeat,
But defeat I don't concede,
For He my soul relieves.

In Him I my succour receive,
In Him, I find my relief,
What humans cannot comprehend,
That peace in Him I receive

R.A. Jacob

Dated 9 March 2003

Provider of seed I pray thee
God's love and spiritual poems
So many tears I have dried
So many tears I have dried
All my poems
Every time time after time

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