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Religious Rot
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson

 

        Religious Rot

The Holy Ghost burns deep inside

We’ve climbed to higher ground

Yet rituals within the bride

Can keep one firmly bound

 

Religion’s plagued with pompous rot

Through dead men’s bones that stink

Dead traditions best forgot

Like wine, too stale to drink

 

Some place their hope on candle flames

Others trust cross & chain

The devil loves we play such games

So long as he can reign

 

His road to hell is wide and sweet

No thorns will bar the way

It’s trampled smooth by many feet

From sheep enticed to stray

 

The fool will say God can’t be true

There’s nothing when we die

Hell’s fire’s but a cynic view

Heaven’s a cleric’s lie

 

They’ll say there is no God to trust

That Christ was just a man

That when we die, we turn to dust

As part of nature’s plan

 

But when God’s fury floods the earth

When dreadful plagues run free

There’ll be no chance for second birth

No choice to bend one’s knee

 

To live! One’s head to Christ must bow

Humbly one’s heart must speak

Salvation’s true! Christ’s here and now

Look up  His grace to seek.....

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Submitted: Tuesday, January 22, 2013

Last Updated: Tuesday, January 22, 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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