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Don't Wait Until Too Late.....
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson


Life’s living light will fail to dawn

Life’s truth arrives too late

Countless will never be reborn

To enter Heaven’s Gate

 

God’s Holy Dove will have lifted

With the quick and dead of life

Leaving still more to be sifted

Amidst earth’s pending strife

 

Unless man learns to understand

To comprehend God’s ways

Through sickness, death devils have planned

To life, they’ll find no trace

 

Though salvation stands constant by

Guiding to victory

They’ll fail, fall in millions will die

Failing life’s path to see

 

To see! They’ll need to look within

Consider Jesus Christ

By grace repent of every sin

That self, be sacrificed

 

Religions, deceived, fanatics

Teaching that black is white

Confuse with blinding dramatics

Robbing believer’s sight

 

Conjuring fire from the sky

Sounding trumpet and drum

Many will drift from God on high

Believing salvation’s come

 

Cut-throats amongst earth’s billions

With brandishing sword in hand

Will chop the heads off millions

Due for God’s Promised Land…..


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Submitted: Monday, October 29, 2018

Last Updated: Tuesday, October 30, 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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