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Self the Devil's Whore (1)
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson


    Self the Devil's Whore (1)

To things of God so lost as dead

To righteousness quite blind

As Satan’s whore within his bed

My lover ruled my mind

 

The devil’s whore in word and deed

His favours I’d inquire

Rejecting God and Christ His Seed

To fill my hearts desire

 

Seduction called me day and night

With morsels never shy

Wild orgies brought me much delight

But still for more I’d cry

 

The more I got the more I’d fail

The more I’d seek his face

I’d revel in adultery’s jail

Dependant on his grace

 

Then in his arms again I’d lay

Gorging immoral wares

I’d hear what envy had to say

And think how much he cares

 

Indulgence brought each wicked treat

I’d savour debauchery’s kiss

Lying beneath dissension’s feet

I’d suffer no remiss

 

Sedition bed me down at times

In strife my heart would quake

Jealousy told me all my crimes

Wild rage would oft awake

 

Immoral in the things I did

Impure most every thought

I gave myself who highest bid

And went with whom had bought…..PTO…..

    Self the Devil's Whore (1)

To things of God so lost as dead

To righteousness quite blind

As Satan’s whore within his bed

My lover ruled my mind

 

The devil’s whore in word and deed

His favours I’d inquire

Rejecting God and Christ His Seed

To fill my hearts desire

 

Seduction called me day and night

With morsels never shy

Wild orgies brought me much delight

But still for more I’d cry

 

The more I got the more I’d fail

The more I’d seek his face

I’d revel in adultery’s jail

Dependant on his grace

 

Then in his arms again I’d lay

Gorging immoral wares

I’d hear what envy had to say

And think how much he cares

 

Indulgence brought each wicked treat

I’d savour debauchery’s kiss

Lying beneath dissension’s feet

I’d suffer no remiss

 

Sedition bed me down at times

In strife my heart would quake

Jealousy told me all my crimes

Wild rage would oft awake

 

Immoral in the things I did

Impure most every thought

I gave myself who highest bid

And went with whom had bought…..PTO…..


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Submitted: Friday, December 28, 2012

Last Updated: Monday, December 31, 2012

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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