And prophets are to be trapped in a future without future.
Oh, how strongly I am missing
Those simpler times when everybody would have listened
A poem about being in a cult.
The Prophet tells me lies, and I believe them. The Prophet warns of doom, and I heed his warnings
They had been walking for days, but there was still no sight of the promised city, no signs of water or lush forests.
The Prophet hands me a choice; Blue, green, yellow, pink? Each brightly colored pill promising something unique! Will I grow, or will I shrink?
-A poem about the Prophet's deception-
And prophets are to be trapped in a future without future.
Oh, how strongly I am missing
Those simpler times when everybody would have listened
A poem about being in a cult.
The Prophet tells me lies, and I believe them. The Prophet warns of doom, and I heed his warnings
They had been walking for days, but there was still no sight of the promised city, no signs of water or lush forests.
The Prophet hands me a choice; Blue, green, yellow, pink? Each brightly colored pill promising something unique! Will I grow, or will I shrink?
-A poem about the Prophet's deception-