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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson



How sad it is when people die

How quick tears run free

Seeing how empty; bodies lie

Once life has ceased to be


How strange they look when souls have gone

When doctors knew no more

When all was done, that could be done

Till life had closed the door


How can we win, this final fight?

Can nought be done at all?

Has death to visit day and night?

Must man yet always fall?


How long must man this pest endure?

With knowledge, close at hand!

Can science not bring forth a cure?

With all at its command


From God, we wander more and more

To death, we bend the knee

Denying Christ Life’s living Door

And life’s eternal Key


From books, we seek to comprehend

Life’s secrets to unfold

The mystery, why life must end

While truth remains untold


“I am The Truth, The Life, The Way

The reason why you live

Believe in all I have to say

Receive The Breath I give


Let darkness from your life depart

Receive Life’s Light within

Allow God’s Flame purge clean your heart

And guide your soul from sin”


“I called, that you should come to me

True love to understand

The hidden Truth to set you free

Revealed in Israel hand


Yet still like fools you seek elsewhere

Believing every lie

To foreign gods you kneel in prayer

And wonder why you die


You perish; for the filth you do

The evil things you say

Because the facts are plain to view

Yet still you walk away


A faith injection’s what you need

Life’s vaccine; true and strong      

My healing hand, my living Seed

Who’ll teach you right from wrong


To immunize against all ills

To save and make you whole

Against deceit, the one who kills

Who’d claim your very soul


Be clothed my child, in robes of white

Receive my Liquid Glow

Raise up your shield, prepare to fight

Against the common foe


I am The Lord, of all you see

Against me, none can stand

Yet all in Truth who worship me

Find life within my hand


Allow your life; my Lamb to save

Behave The Way you should

Escape in Christ, the waiting grave

Through Fire and Jesus’ Blood”…..

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Submitted: Sunday, November 25, 2012

Last Updated: Sunday, November 25, 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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