With His Stripes We Are Healed. Poem by Genova Maaa my mother

His visage and his form was
so marred more than any man.

He hath no form nor comeliness;
and when we shall see him,
there is no beauty
that we should desire him.

To whom are the secrets of the Lord revealed.?

The kings kept thier mouth shut
as Jesus was beaten and killed.

He is despised and rejected of men;
a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief:
and we hid as it were our faces from him;
he was despised, and we esteemed him not.

Surely he hath borne our griefs,
and carried our sorrows:
yet we did esteem him stricken,
smitten of God, and afflicted.

But he was wounded for our transgressions,
he was bruised for our iniquities:
the chastisement of our peace
was upon him;
and with his stripes we are healed.

(leaning on Isiah 53, the book in Old Testament of the Holy Bibel)
(Graphic: WALKING WITH GOD - Through The Fire | Heaven Awaits
Heaven Awaits -
WALKING WITH GOD - Through The Fire)