The more holy, I try to be,
The more temptations seem to come;
I query why unfair to me,
Is God to my people, my home!
The more I pray, I fall in sin,
I ask whither my prayers have gone!
I grumble why cannot I win;
Am I on earth just all alone?
The truth I ponder and find out;
The love of God is growing more;
He cares for me without a doubt,
And wants me better than before!
The Holy God wants me holy;
A perfect Lord makes me perfect;
His grace works wonders most truly;
And Satan’s works I now reject.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 22-07-11
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
John, I like the way you think. Sometimes we try hard but still fail. Bigger obstacles sometimes in our way. Reflection brings about the answers (that is the very best part of the poem) then we keep growing. We may never reach perfection but as long as we keep trying to improve we are moving in the right direction. The rhymes go very well in this poem.