The bruises of my heart are excruciating
Vicious blows planted of my own volition
As if wielding a sledgehammer, unceasing
While Jesus waits silently above, weeping
YOU ARE READING
Strands Of Hope
PoetryPoetry, in the form of quatrain, meant to inspire, encourage, and lift the soul.
Bruises
The bruises of my heart are excruciating
Vicious blows planted of my own volition
As if wielding a sledgehammer, unceasing
While Jesus waits silently above, weeping
