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Who Call On His Name....
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson

He’s more then blessed to live today

Honoured as Jesus’ bride

Privileged to walk Salvation’s Way

With all God’s love inside


Living a life as Satan’s whore

In shadows of the night

He thought Heaven had closed the door

Barring The Way to Light


Still plagued with sin in deep despair

A stench beyond the sky

Shame was tempting everywhere

His lust could not defy


He wanted love silver and gold

More of the devil’s charms

Slowly surely his soul was sold

Within the devil’s arms


He revelled a while, life was great

However deep the shame

Lusting for more he’d hardly wait

Until the darkness came


He’d walk the streets he’d frequent bars

No filth he wouldn’t share

Sleeping drunken beneath the stars

And still he didn’t care


Just how it came that he could see?

Whilst in that evil mess

Why Heaven chose to set him free

To me he’d not confess


But by God’s grace Salvation came

Through Jesus Christ his Lord

He’s cleansed he’s saved from Satan’s claim

And hell’s eternal sword..... 

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Submitted: Wednesday, September 6, 2017

Last Updated: Thursday, September 7, 2017

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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