My Shield and my Refuge, what can the arrow of my enemy do to me?
Shot from the top of the mountains, with long metal blades, the wind has kept it steady, now it hits the target.
Who will endure such pain? Who can withstand such thrust?
Perhaps for a few while the pain will lessen; maybe time will heal all wounds; or the pleasures of sin perhaps, will gradually sooth all the pain away.
But who will heal a broken spirit? Who will mend the broken hearts?
Breathless still; searching for an antidote to heal the wounds.
Can you find rest in a broken world, a world filled with heartaches?
A world where the loner lays his head at night while soiled in tears?
Who will shield me from all the constant trials? Who can comfort me and hear my groaning which words cannot utter?
Surely there is a One that heals all broken hearts.
Indeed there is a place called a City of Refuge, where the righteous run to and hide.
Christ, the Rock of all foundation.
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