The poem warns of God’s anathema (divine curse) on churches that preach a false gospel, deviating from the true, biblical message of salvation by grace through faith in Jesus Christ. It portrays liberal churches as distorting scripture with softened teachings, leading souls toward spiritual ruin and eternal perdition. Using vivid imagery of clouded skies, dimming light, and hell’s deceptive gates, the poem contrasts the pure gospel’s clarity with the dangers of falsehood. It urges churches to hold fast to untainted truth, emphasizing God’s resolute judgment and the dire consequences for those who mislead the flock. The tone is somber yet urgent, reflecting evangelical concerns about doctrinal purity and the eternal fate of souls.

Beneath the spire, where voices rise,
A gospel sounds, but clouds the skies.
The Word, once sharp as heaven’s sword,
Is bent, reshaped, its truth ignored.

The Shepherd’s call, so clear, so free,
“By grace, through faith, come unto Me.”
Yet some would weave a softer tale,
Where truth dissolves, and souls may fail.

Anathema, the Lord’s decree,
A holy wrath none dare foresee.
For those who twist His sacred plea,
And lead the flock where none should be.

The gates of hell, with subtle guise,
Wear mercy’s mask in preacher’s eyes.
But light grows dim, the path descends,
Where falsehood reigns, and hope pretends.

Oh, church, beware the siren’s art,
That strays the soul and breaks the heart.
The Gospel’s flame, unyielding, bright,
Must guide the lost through endless night.

God’s voice resounds, His verdict sure,
“Hold fast My truth, untainted, pure.”
Lest anathema’s weight befall,
And souls be lost beyond recall.