Eight From Seven (3)

Poem By Michael P. Johnson

It’s not from books The Lord is known
But by The Spirit’s might
For He who’s not of flesh and bone
Is full of Heaven’s Light

Amidst the dead, we can’t remain
When truth we’ve understood
They’d throw us on the streets again
And think they’ve done some good

They’re quite content to think they know
God’s secret things on high
The bible says they’ll make us go
Believing that we lie

They’ve done it all before you see
To Luther in his time
He saw God’s word that set him free
To them that was the crime

Be not afraid of what they do
Obey the Lord above
If when you’re sure He speaks to you
Then shout it out in love

Call out to those who slumber fast
Ring loud the church’s bell
Fill now the net The Lord has cast
Keep tender plants from hell

Then Christ will choose His perfect bride
His Soap will wash her clean
His Holy Flame when deep inside
Will purify His queen

Our God is real, His promise true
Through faith His bride will live
Yet He who died for me and you
Has so much more to give…

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I Trust In Jesus

Before this body turns to dust
Before this world I leave
Upon The Lord I’ve placed my trust
Upon The Rock I’ll cleave

Wars, Wars, Wars

There’s so much hatred round the place
The world seems not to care
For though we travel into space
There’s fighting in the air

A Cry In The Dark

How deep in life I had to fall
Living a constant lie
But then with back against the wall
I couldn't help but cry

A Word To Parasites

Some spend themselves though never groan
Whilst Jesus' sheep they feed
They deem God's money not their own

{1} The Spirit’s Touch

“Lord, let my praise scale Your mountain
Let Your grace be a fountain
Allow Your truth fill unsaved ears
There to abide eternal years


How foolish are your songs of pride
When Jesus seeks to come inside
Humble yourself reject your shame
Receive my Spirit’s purging flame