The Poetry of Michel St John

The Heaven's weep with Joy, above the World's pain. Flowing from on high, the filth and scorn, to wash away. Resanctifying human hearts, God's omnipresent brain, bestows such light, that lets you live, and breathe fresh air again. Let's you shelter, under Him, heals you when in pain. A grace upon your countenance shines, and dries you from the rain. Lost in deep, dark stormy seas, turns raging winds that trouble you, into a gentle breeze. All He asks is worship Him, descend upon thy knees, before the Lord on high. Be free, submit in pure devotion. Give up your will to Him and feel, as though your body's floating. Pray for Him to grant your wishes, help you to succeed, Give up your life to praise His name, and everything you need, will come to you, by His decree, perfecting your identity. Once aligned, to the Lord's will, feel your heart and mind, with loving grace be deeply filled, bestowing form to thee, and you will surely come to see, His plan for you and m

Don't put off joining until you think yourself ready, you have always been ready, just come as you are. Come, as you are. You were always coming this way anyway. Don't prolong the inevitable, leave now don't delay, for the days they drip through you. I nto darkness, slip away. Will you work until you're old, and grey? Lonely, cold, from the weight of all, you bought and sold. Or play? Like a dancing star. You're here for but a little while, however far you get, isn't far. Will you wear a smile? Or piles of trinkets, clothes and jewels to help you to forget? Your date with destiny. All the gold, all the respect, all those things you carry, will only weigh you down. You hold them, and you tarry, slowly around town. Did you forget, you must spiral ever down? However high you get, it isn't far to fall? And lose it all you must. It all must turn to rust, and all will turn to dust. No matter who you tell, no matter who you trust. The choppers axe must fell. Howev