Members dismember disciples
Who refuse not to refute
Fixture in the psuedo-conscience
Pools of vagrant thought, the root
Fragrance of things dissolute
In the air a smell repugnant
Smelling of a foul mind
Trickling like thick molasses
Moving slowly down the lne
Unsightly things made worse with time
Things like poverse masochists
Subjugated beyond reproach
Proud of these accomplishments
Wear them like an heirloom brooch
Show what your history's poached
Trapping skins and selling furs
Rid them of pesky self-worth
Spook them to perpetual fear
Bid them experience rebirth
Dig their own graves in the earth
In digging graves and dying deaths
Dignity lost and found regret
Happiness left and anger entered
Mania solidified and reason splintered
Positive leaves
Negative reaves
Hope upheaves
And honesty repreives