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Hell's Lethal Plagues.....
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson


The tongue can make man’s spirit cry

Cause one to lose life’s glow

Infecting souls, with will, to die

Beneath its lethal flow

 

Hatred is such an evil thing

An enemy supreme

Where only hearts, that true love sing

Will end its evil stream

 

Despondency can take a hold

Like some dreadful disease

Make those once strong, courageous bold

To pray on bended knees

 

Where One who sees; such disasters

Where true love all transcends

May submit these would-be masters

To humbly make amends

 

Prayer is power, still most unknown

Where devils still reside

Prayer ascending to Heaven’s throne

Can change both time and tide

 

Mountains will move, oceans can dry

Make foolish people wise

Dry tears in a victim’s eye

More oft to their surprise

 

Procrastination’s, starvation

Religion is decay

Causing drought in every nation

With thirsting sheep astray

 

Love is what drives The Father’s heart

Why Jesus came to earth

So; that all hell’s evil will depart

Let true love, come to birth…..


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Submitted: Thursday, August 23, 2018

Last Updated: Thursday, August 23, 2018

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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