Secret sects are formed by the power craving kind

Fleeing from their failings, finding comfort in denial

This benighted growing swarm a cult of the blind leading the blind

Flocking into further fantasy converting fools into their tribe…

Bow to the King, kiss the ring

Bathe in a deeper meaning

And thus become a God, the knowledge sought

Was always yours for the taking

You behold the truth, that so few knew

Watch the layers peeling

Follow and you will thrive, become the hive

A faithful soldier in the making...

Throne to the wolves

The howls of umbrageous obedience

Now bowing to a different master

Doused in a fresh coat of ignorance

Unsustainable

These tall tales, mere whispers on the wind

Catching plausibility once in a while

You start to see the mounting gaps in between

You found out how the product is made

Assessed the man behind the curtain

And now, betrayed, with a reddened face

You’re set free still you remain unchanged

To save face with those who warned you away

Unable to admit that you were deceived

Now bound between a rock and a hard place

You double down and bite the hand that feeds...

...YOU!

Whilst each “revelation” turns to ash

The congregation still bow to pray

Hoping it wasn’t all completely for nought

That the trust was not misplaced

Yet even with the torch extinguished

The facts seem unbearable to face

The swollen sting of being swindled

That plummeting fall from grace!

Each time logic thwarts them and belittles their assertions

This quicksand cult mentality provides perpetual motion

The plague of paranoia spreads with no sign of decline

Rearing minacious content within conspiring minds...