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


 

          Satanic Weed

Before the chick, a broken shell

Before the tree, a seed

Before man came on earth to dwell

The devil planted weed

 

The devil sows hell’s germ of shame

To flourish deep within

A residue of Adam’s blame

A monument to sin

 

Hell’s weed continues to abound

In evil’s vast array

Wildly thriving on wayward ground

When God we disobey

 

Shocking; how quickly filth can spread

How death’s conceived through lies

Lying in lust’s deceitful bed

How swift it multiplies

 

In Satan’s weed ripening tall

Death’s worm develops well

Feeding until it brings to fall

And leads man off to hell

 

Through evil thoughts, will blossom free

Will increase through deceit

Yet hearts can change, blind eyes can see

When at The Saviour’s feet

 

When planting soul’s in Jesus’ hand

We’ll learn the foe to fight

We’ll see The Truth and understand

Hell’s weed can’t grow in Light!

 

Repent; is what we need to do

Confess, each wayward deed

Receive with Light, Christ’s birth anew

And watch God burn the weed..…


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Submitted: Friday, January 18, 2013

Last Updated: Friday, January 18, 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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