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A Cry to Save
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson


A Cry to Save


Lord once again on bended knee

To You I turn my face

I pray this lost blind world may see

To seek and find Your grace


At war; my God she hates The Light

Her children live for gain

Lord soon I pray she’ll quit her fight

That Christ may truly reign


Content, she seeks herself to please

Living religious lies

Straining out gnats and minute fleas

Behind some church disguise


Pointing fingers, crying out shame

Walking lofty and proud

Filthy quoting Your holy name

Amidst the maddening crowd


With heart full lies with gross deceit

Pretending all is well

Just like a whore between soiled sheets

She’ll live her way to hell


To Heaven’s Truth she wanders blind

Cheated from life’s true goal

Chasing shadows of lost mankind

To ease her troubled soul


Deceived my God she’s bound to burn

Suffering endless loss

Unless through grace through faith she’ll learn

The facts behind The Cross


The facts of life of Jesus Christ

Of death to endless pain

Why Heaven’s Lamb was sacrificed

Forever King to reign ….. 

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Submitted: Thursday, December 24, 2015

Last Updated: Thursday, December 24, 2015

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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