On Jonestown

False messiahs break down weaker selves,
The weak seek out the strong, then weaken more.
They hear the very dreams they know too well:
Salvation's near! It warms them to the core.

The next step: Isolation, break them down
Coerce them with group-think if they protest
Then smother them with false love till they're bound,
As powerless as newborns in their nest.

Above all, watch them. See how they conform;
For they have long since lost autonomy.
To follow your desires is their norm;
For they have lost all desire to be free.

Thus false religion's ultimate extreme:
This promise of redemption is all lies;
Controlling you is your cult leader's dream
He does not mourn if your frail freedom dies.

False messiahs feed on battered souls;
They practice hellish rituals of death.
You give your yes to their seductive goals,
And even pledge to them your final breath,

Jim Jones called out, All die with dignity!
His acolytes passed Kool-Aid to the crowd.
He did not drink with them apparently.
It took a shot to bring that reverend down.

Banality of evil? I suppose.
But I would rather call it Abba's loss.
For when all hearts and minds to Abba close,
False interlopers come, and at what cost?

The cost of battered selfhood, so abused,
The end can only be vain suicide
For Abba's freedom, totally refused,
Leave a destructive portal open wide.

A growing crop of gurus seeks weak souls;
Deadly incursions are their stock in trade.
Resist in Abba's name! Avoid their rolls!
Take Abba in, stand free. Your debts are paid.

The weight of guilt that made you weak inside
Is lifted and new freedom grows within.
The door to a free future opens wide.
You'll solve your own life freely. Now begin.