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

† † † † Religious Rot

The Holy Ghost burns deep inside

Weíve climbed to higher ground

Yet rituals within the bride

Can keep one firmly bound

Religionís plagued with pompous rot

Through dead menís bones that stink

Dead traditions best forgot

Like wine, too stale to drink

Some place their hope on candle flames

Others trust cross & chain

The devil loves we play such games

So long as he can reign

His road to hell is wide and sweet

No thorns will bar the way

Itís trampled smooth by many feet

From sheep enticed to stray

The fool will say God canít be true

Thereís nothing when we die

Hellís fireís but a cynic view

Heavenís a clericís lie

Theyíll say there is no God to trust

That Christ was just a man

That when we die, we turn to dust

As part of natureís plan

But when Godís fury floods the earth

When dreadful plagues run free

Thereíll be no chance for second birth

No choice to bend oneís knee

To live! Oneís head to Christ must bow

Humbly oneís heart must speak

Salvationís true! Christís here and now

Look up† His grace to seek.....

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Submitted: Tuesday, January 22, 2013

Last Updated: Wednesday, January 23, 2013

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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