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The Sting Has Gone.....
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson


    The Sting Has Gone.....

In shadows of the mind they lie    

Suppressed with morbid dread 

The angst and thought one day to die

And that which waits ahead

 

Most walk with fear the roads of life

Hating, fearing death

Dreading the day it takes its knife

Ending one’s final breath

 

Yet death’s not hard to understand

For those beneath God’s wing

Each child held fast in Jesus hand

Need dread no more its sting

 

Broken are long the chains of death

Though sharp linger the claws

To those; receiving Heaven’s Breath

The lion only roars

 

While demons scream still rant and rave

The serpent eats but dust

Coaxing world sheep to feed the grave

Through lies deceit and lust

 

But most still question the unknown

When death they come to face

Though Christ is on His glory throne

Flooding lost souls with grace

 

But where life’s debts God’s Lamb has paid

What else has faith to care?

No grounds remain to be afraid

No reason for despair

 

In Truth; Life’s Boat we’ll reach God’s shore

Locking behind death’s gates

With Christ The Key to Heaven’s Door

Eternity awaits..... 


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Submitted: Monday, September 2, 2013

Last Updated: Monday, September 2, 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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