in the Calvary Jesus call God in a swiping voice
Father, hold me near in your mercy, as Mother
Teresa of Calcutta, whisper God in her conquest
to end the misery of the people of India
sound of disappear it may seem, a truth that blind
and close the heart that listen for all, gnashing your
soul it may not fall in the wilderness of fear, wishing
as it hold the emptiness of the soul, let me hide in
your vest of pure
life experienced the best of despair and suffer the
mutilated body in every stair, ladder my meekness
and hug me in loving care; enough is enough in
every affair
i entomb myself with all the pain, embattle my
wonder in the harmony of what you see, i am what
it fall and stand; a rise in the stage you give, believe
me my dear soul the end does not call to fall, push
me not to the limit, i wish i could still ask to seek
your way
here is myself, open to your mercy and my memory
could be still in you forever, i would be free......
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem