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Lease Help Me Die
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson


Please Help Me Die


As I consider life on high

As I behold the cross

I see one’s self must learn to die

Or suffer frightful loss


Through knowledge of The Truth I share

Teachings, learned and believed                                    

I know my cross I need to bear

That life may be received


I know The Truth God’s given Word

Life’s one and only Way

I know through facts I’ve seen and heard

That Jesus came to say


Lord hear me as I humbly cry

Turn not from me Your face

Please help; that self may swiftly die

To fill my cup with grace


You cleansed my soul of spot and stain

Opened my ears and eyes

Uphold me now through unknown pain

Whilst self; struggling dies


Here I stand with heartfelt plea

Beyond the torn down veil

Considering that bloodstained tree

Hoping not to fail


It’s not for fame I ask of this

For silver gold nor jewel

From all world wealth I’d gladly miss

If I would be Your tool


To die till free of Satan’s charms

Till grafted in The Vine

Safely within my Father’s arms

With Jesus’ hand in mine....

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Submitted: Friday, December 12, 2014

Last Updated: Friday, December 12, 2014

About the Poet
I never wrote a word of poetry in my life. Till the day Jesus took my hand and touched my soul.....I invite your response. However most poems are not about me! Very few are. But the feed-back good, bad or indifferent is always desired. Not meant to offend, but I write about many things in many a guise. Of life, death, lost, found, saved, backsliders, new comers, repenting souls, doubting hearts, heathens, Christians, fire, water, Satan's daughter, wallowing in sin, saved, made sound walking in Light, graceful righteous. Suffering, ecstatic, bored, excited, sad, delighted, Sick, well, lame, able, living, dying, etc. etc. etc. Writing about anything, everything and everyone as the spirit leads. All meant to reveal, waken, revive, encourage, shame, help. Gladden, pick up, exalt, portrait, liberate. Again over 99% of my work is not about me. Although at times I write as though I were or am. Speaking e.g. in the first person. This is quite common even in the bible itself. Prophets speak of themselves, then God speaks, again the prophet, then God......Quite often it's difficult to distinguish whom it is that at any given time is speaking or narrating.

Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson

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