Prison Doors Poem by THEODORE MOSLEY

Masquerades of holiness are abounding for fruitful lies of love.

You hear the quadulate of words immersing from the wounds of their lips.

Travailing walks of inadequacies have subdued their minds of righteousness.

Hiding their hands and throwing rocks gave them false hopes of the gospel.

They have become soldiers of the dark without pronouncing their service for the light.

Truth barren with escapades of noises heard for itching ears are abounding.

Encouraged with the heartbeat of the pain of others they subscribe to happiness.

They carry the faithful words of love until the battlefield of love endures.

They mount up with wings of sustain talebearers and glorify the spirit of divination.

The sound mind of corruption endures for a multitude of pleasures for nights beyond truth.

Graveyards of whited sepulchers have engrafted their sound doctrine of peace.

Rivers of artificial talk proclaimed the gospel with their rhetoric of learned tongues.

Instead of entertaining angels unawares they submit to hands of filthy lucre.

Straight gates of perils are held in exchange for prison doors of deceitfulness.

Written by Theodore Mosley

November 1,2018