Brought up in a cult…

I was brought up in a cult,
Where less of love and more of fault
Where the fake outside intentions
And the four days of conventions
Were simply outwardly shows of deceit.
Sundays and Wednesdays usually they meet
To speak of love, and forgiveness
Charity, faith and meekness.
Yet other days of the week
Not a ‘lost soul’ they would seek
But mock and find fault
In those who questioned such a cult.

Mixing with ‘non-believers’ frowned upon
Days of acceptance seemingly gone
Pushing ‘members’ to make a decision
With this message, ‘not a man-made religion’.
‘Truth’, they call it, started at the beginning
Based on lies, yet they think they are winning,
‘We are saved’ they cry, as they clearly forget
The words and way that Jesus has set
‘I am the way, the truth, and the life,’
Not workers or elders, as they seem to say.

So much secrecy and truths that are hidden.
Why would you need to if it wasn’t forbidden?
And dare you question
Once you made your profession
You will be shunned
As quickly as it all began.
See the workers and friends that you once held dear
Will push you away as they are struck with fear
‘You are a lost soul, you’ve lost your love’
Forgetting that the judgement comes from above.

Consumed with the outside appearance
Blindly following with perseverance
Isolated from the reality of life
Yet so many tales of utter strife
Friend, if you knew the tales of woe
Our fellow humans daily know
Then the length of your skirt or even your hair
You’d realise that no one really gives a care.

For our ‘worldly’ brothers and sisters suffer each day
Drugs and debts, and stories of dismay
They’re desperate for help and for some love
But exclusive thoughts put the ‘friends’ above
Thinking of those that are in great need
Sometimes kindness – is the seed.

Hannah
July 8, 2022