On The Mountaintop (A Tribute To Mlk Jr) Poem by THEODORE MOSLEY

He heard the cries in the night before his life was laid to rest upon the mountaintop of fires.

Heeding the call to resurrect the injustices that was produced in the minds of unfiltered lies.

He began to reach towards heaven for sophisticated words to encounter the molecules of despair.

On the mountaintop he was transfused into a vessel of democracy of love, only to be driven downwards.

Our songs echoed the fields of whips that bloomed the minds of unrescued dreams of graves crying.

He gave his consent to purchase his time for justice and his love became his prison for humanity.

The Scientology of his dreams began to mascaraed his thoughts for our history of creation.

Freedom of life authorized him to sail the seas of hatred and collect his time from bone collectors.

On the mountaintop he induced the slaves of sharecroppers to forge their walk for endurance.

Shaping the moment of equality, he exposed the truth of knowledge on the fields of blood stain whispers.

Forsaken the enemy, he corralled the lessons of life with his hand entwine with the hands of prayers.

His freedom of life has him protecting our freedom of choice that coincides with the throne of grace.

On the mountaintop, his wings of melodies have the angels blowing the trumpet to escape their warfare.

Marching with the strength of his ancestors, his territory became our battlefield of unforeseen graves.

The rhapsody of his walk brings the dismantle of our hope and we cried out with each step; freedom lives here.

Singing songs of escapable dreams, the day is met with rays of punishment intended for traps of nature.

On the mountaintop he secured the next generation of love to unite beyond the eyes of devastation.

He brings the harmony of righteousness with his flesh that his labor of love bestowed upon him.

His tears accepted their rivers of brutality that swiftly caressed him in the shadows of the sun.

The temperature of their words swelled his equilibrium to offset his standard of living.

On the mountaintop the wings of the spirit cried out to him, "In my FATHER's house are many mansions".

Mercy carried him to heights of revelations; grace subdued his steps to the incarnated KING.

With words of correlations, his fight was emptied into submission with his destiny before him.

Persuasive arts of love continued his mind of a soldier, to lay down his flesh only to ignite his battle.

On the mountaintop, the stronghold of his captivity became our freedom from captivity.

Pursued for wickedness, he embodied peace without dissimulation and his walk became his flight risk.

He surrendered his life for life and the Nobel Peace Prize orchestrated his life beyond existence.

Driven for his natural causes from birth, the hands of chaotic pleasures chose to entomb his love.

Chains of deceit, love of confusion and barriers of ignorance, danced his name in midnight meetings.

On the mountaintop, love foreshadowed him with the serenity of doves' wings as he found the answers.

Searching the hearts of unknown terrorism, the sword of righteousness planted his walk in still waters.

Grieving for humanity, he rose to the epitome of unworthiness to unlock the abyss of moral standards.

Subjected to the microscope of their forensic mind, the beauty of life surpassed his understanding.

His eyes and the spirit of life took him upward; "I have a dream but I may not get there with you".

On the mountaintop the sea of love flowed down to the valley and he shouted "Free at last free at last thank GOD ALMIGHTY I am free at last".


Written by Theodore Mosley
March 6,2015