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Hell's Disgrace
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson

 

Hell's Disgrace

 

Please break these bonds of darkness Lord

Help devils take their flight

Lord from my heart pull Satan’s sword

And flood my soul with Light

 

Too long I’ve lived this life below

Walking the ways of hell

Much deeper than I care to go

Amidst its rotting smell

 

I ate the filth the devil gave

I drank his putrid wine

Sinking more deeper in the grave

Through no one’s fault but mine

 

But now to me you’ve shown love’s grace

I see The Truth at last

The mask’s removed from Satan’s face

I know his dye is cast

 

Forgive my heart, its lust for sin

My soul its selfish ways

My hunger, greed, desire to win

The fruit of hell’s disgrace

 

I’ve walked in filth but not alone

Countless, walk Satan’s path

So full of sin with hearts of stone

Waiting the day of wrath

 

I pray my God their souls to save

I pray more hearts make pure

Humbly upon my knees I crave

The strength to all endure

 

You did it all upon The Tree

You did it all with love

You did it all to set us free

For life with You above.....

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Submitted: Friday, October 23, 2015

Last Updated: Friday, October 23, 2015

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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