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The Deep Dark Pit
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson


 

 

The Deep Dark Pit

 

Whilst rambling down a country lane

I sat beneath this tree

Gazing around this green terrain

What views were there to see

 

When suddenly I heard a voice

Yet felt no great surprise

“To you, I give freedom of choice

Behold before your eyes

 

See the tree on Calvary hill

The hateful people there

Where there as Lamb obeyed my will

So sinners everywhere

 

Could come beneath their Saviour’s feet

Could bend their knees in prayer

Could make their Father’s joy complete

My awesome love to share

 

Observe my child this deep dark pit

Now if you will agree

Throw all your rubbish into it

To set your spirit free

 

Cast foolish doubt into the dust

Selfishness and deceit

Throw gluttony, lies, wanton lust

Hatred and will to cheat

 

Cast all that darkness down my child

Receive my Light instead

Repent of sin stop running wild

Now leave the walking dead

 

Explain to neighbours all I’ve done

Help others see The Light

Help strangers come to Christ my Son

And have their lives set right…..


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Submitted: Sunday, September 4, 2016

Last Updated: Sunday, September 4, 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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