Lying Is A Sin Poem by Saint Cynosure

Bed of roses,
bed of Thorns,
bed of leepers ashes.
So many lay and wallow in,
what bares on them has scratches.
Empty tears,
hallowed screams,
burdens for the mothers.
Suddenly things shown and seen,
seem different from the others.
Shameful face all carved with scars,
imprinted from fears fables.
Disecrate the holiest of priest placed at the table.
Ever word that's spoken forth,
with letters buying volumes.
Such soothing comfort for the ear,
the softest touch to skin.
The LORD did speak this law to hear,
LYING is a SIN.