THEODORE MOSLEY


Bed Of Sex - Poem by THEODORE MOSLEY

Her heart is fixed on heaven without dissimulation for truth and righteousness.

She inspired to be like her mother before her with solitude and quietness of mind.

When she would encounter the temptation of his flesh she would admire the womb of her pureness.

Seducing sprits of anarchy was consumed with words of majestic wisdom.

The beauty that was bestowed upon her she gave the glory to 'The Rose of Sharon'.

Touch not the fruit of my chaste that belongs to the eyes of her adoration.

Giving you the holiness of me without the holiness of you is a trap of darkness conceived in lust.

Thirsty for the rest of her soul her temple will be rewarded a righteous crown of glory.

Eyes have not seen nor have hands touched her salvation that is anointed for another.

Her voice of reasoning tormented his flesh for deliverance from her passion of life.

The sacred grounds she stood on became his quicksand of defeated sacrifices.

She said your cradle of broken dreams will not become my bed of sex for your instant pleasures.


Written by Theodore Mosley
September 7,2017

Topic(s) of this poem: inspiration


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Poem Submitted: Thursday, September 14, 2017



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