Evil’s Root (2) Poem by Michael P. Johnson

Pure evil, deepens failing hope
Develops filth received
Who’ll overcome, must learn to cope
Whilst others fall, deceived!

A deadly threat, the world unknown
A cunning sweet device
Hell’s parasites, to flesh and bone
The vilest form of lice

A ploy to ruin The Saviour’s plan
A vulture on the wing
A cancer to the inner man
Malignant when we sing

But Christ has come to cleanse and purge
The devil’s filth we buy
God’s Flame of Truth, The Father’s Scourge
Salvation’s Sword on high

He’s come to set the captive free
The sick and frail make sound
The blind in truth He’ll bring to see
What evil has them bound

We can’t afford to sit around
Sluggards are Satan’s tools
He’d plant his seed in hallowed ground
That turns the wise to fools

The sword of God within the hand
The shield of faith held high
Girdled with truth, we understand
There’s no more need to die

Fend off seductive squalid lies
Refuse the devil’s call
Tear down the tempter’s fine disguise
Then watch his kingdom fall…PTO…