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

 

Religion Harnessed

 

Bound, deceived, in manmade cages

Behind the devil’s door

Blind with hate throughout the ages

Religion turns to war

 

Blind to God’s Son! Salvation’s Well

Accepting Satan’s lie

Covert killers, butchers of hell

Coerced; are led to die

 

Taking captives inflicting pain

To liquidate and kill

Religion fights its wars in vain

Fulfilling Satan’s will

 

I too deceived once walked dead

Of Heaven’s grace denied

Frolicking in the devil’s bed

Demonised inside

 

I too was lost as blind as these

Blundering through the night

Till Jesus came whilst on my knees

And filled my soul with Light

 

If they could see Your handwork Lord

Have knowledge of your love

They’d lay aside their thirsty sword

And seek life’s Way above

 

You; are my hope, my heart’s desire

Fulfilment of my soul

The source in life that all require

To make a sinner whole

 

I pray my God these words may tell

May journey near and far

That others too, may steer from hell

Knowing how great You are.....

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Submitted: Wednesday, June 22, 2016

Last Updated: Wednesday, June 22, 2016

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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