Feb 2020
All tears I’ve reluctantly saved.
My account of life reflects a balance, that clearly indicates I’m still deep pains slave.
To each his own plight, this is the reality we each must face.
Still collectively we endeavor to strategize collectively, although individual members of this broken human race.
The more we try to manipulate the incoherence of our battered time.
The more we realize, in the span of our whisper of life, there is mostly no rhythm, nor rhyme.
Life’s leprous dividends of anguish who truly understands, and will subtract them absolutely in our end?
Not a one of us, only he, this we all oh so deeply fully comprehend.
Everyday we add ever-more drops of agony to the debt of our personal pity bank.
In his mercy we have faith, a permanently blotting out, to a complete blank!
J.I.F.
Matthew 18:37
37 Moved with pity at this, the master of that slave let him off and canceled his debt.
Psalm 51:1
Show me favor, O God, according to your loyal love. Blot out my transgressions according to your great mercy.
Psalm 72:13
13 He will have pity on the lowly and the poor, And the lives of the poor he will save.
Psalm 90:9
9 Our days ebb away because of your fury; And our years come to an end like a whisper.
Mark 1:40,41
40 There also came to him a *****, pleading with him even on bended knee, saying to him: “If you just want to, you can make me clean.” 41 At that he was moved with pity, and he stretched out his hand and touched him, and said to him: “I want to! Be made clean.”
Psalm 56:8
8 You keep track of my wandering. Do collect my tears in your skin bottle. Are they not recorded in your book?
My account of life reflects a balance, that clearly indicates I’m still deep pains slave.
To each his own plight, this is the reality we each must face.
Still collectively we endeavor to strategize collectively, although individual members of this broken human race.
The more we try to manipulate the incoherence of our battered time.
The more we realize, in the span of our whisper of life, there is mostly no rhythm, nor rhyme.
Life’s leprous dividends of anguish who truly understands, and will subtract them absolutely in our end?
Not a one of us, only he, this we all oh so deeply fully comprehend.
Everyday we add ever-more drops of agony to the debt of our personal pity bank.
In his mercy we have faith, a permanently blotting out, to a complete blank!
J.I.F.
Matthew 18:37
37 Moved with pity at this, the master of that slave let him off and canceled his debt.
Psalm 51:1
Show me favor, O God, according to your loyal love. Blot out my transgressions according to your great mercy.
Psalm 72:13
13 He will have pity on the lowly and the poor, And the lives of the poor he will save.
Psalm 90:9
9 Our days ebb away because of your fury; And our years come to an end like a whisper.
Mark 1:40,41
40 There also came to him a *****, pleading with him even on bended knee, saying to him: “If you just want to, you can make me clean.” 41 At that he was moved with pity, and he stretched out his hand and touched him, and said to him: “I want to! Be made clean.”
Psalm 56:8
8 You keep track of my wandering. Do collect my tears in your skin bottle. Are they not recorded in your book?
