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The Weed of Sin
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson


The Weed of Sin

†† THE WEED OF SIN

Before the chick, no broken shell

Before the tree, no seed

Yet ere the day creation fell

The devil planted weed

The devil sows his germ of shame

To flourish deep within

A residue to Adamís blame

A monument to sin

This weed continues to be found

In such a vast array

Widely thriving in sinful ground

When God we disobey

Surprising how such filth can spread

From but the smallest lies

Once found in manís deceitful bed

How quick, it multiplies

On Satanís weed weíll stand so tall

Deathís worm grows sleek and well

It eats, until it brings to fall

Souls forever to hell

Through wayward thoughts weeds blossom free

Bear fruit in gross deceit

Even the strongest fail to see

When Satan comes to cheat

But blessed are souls in Jesusí hand

Who learn the foe to fight

Who see The Truth and understand

Hellís weed canít grow in light

Repent the evil that you do

Confess each loathsome deed

Receive Christís Light Christís birth anew

Then watch the burning weed.....


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Submitted: Wednesday, July 27, 2011

Last Updated: Thursday, July 28, 2011

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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