The Bride’s Enema Poem by Michael P. Johnson

We all become of what we eat
And what we eat is earth
Yet food received at Jesus’ feet
Gives unto spirit; birth

God’s Spirit cleans the chosen few
Gives sup on Zion hill
Rids lust for garlic, onions too! –Nu.11: 5
Such poison that can kill

The Lord reveals what devil’s hide
Which seed they’ll plant in vain
Such filth can constipate the bride
And cause her stress and pain

But will we give to God these things?
We’ve grown so much to love?
Or are we pleased how Satan sings?
We seek no more above

We must give God all toxins found
Like jealousy and hate
Satanic fruit on holy ground
Will only constipate

Best put and end to all that’s foul
Refuse the devil’s wine
Although there’s rumbling of the bowel
We’ve medicine divine

Receive God’s enema today
His Hyssop Branch and Flame
He’ll bring an end to life’s decay
Through faith in Jesus’ name

Receive the Truth, God’s guiding Light
Receive His promised Jewel
Knowledge, wisdom, infinite sight
And end satanic rule