Ochlocracy - Deivos

The Mob unheeded.

pushed to the limit

You’re lying in the cellar of your superstitions

You breathe with them

Mistrustful, embittered

You feed your children with greasy chauvinism

Add some salt to their wounds, let them scream upon heavens

None of your brethren shall ever be free

With us or against us

Separate the moles from the allies

Lord have mercy on us — forward, march!

Bloated with hate.

the maggot is feeding

On your wrath.

anger and fear

It won’t stop until you’re broken.

strangled

Drowned in the sea of bile

In his name

His way is the only way

His beliefs are the only true

His religion is yours

Deprecating.

arrogant and proud — so much better than the others

Envious and worthless.

yet dangerous in the pack

Self-confident, yet fearful

Noble in its ignorance

Servants of the dogmatic weavers of poisonous words

Manipulated.

usurpers' hounds.

ready to bite — cannon fodder

Blood’s boiling.

eyes squinted.

hands clenched in lists of rage

Throat tastes bitter.

Spine’s tingling.

Ready to strike at command — obeying and without questions

Trained in the pens of the diseased shepherds

In the pillories of enmity

Persecutors of free minds.

legion of bitterness

They will rip your heart out and then devour it

Shave your head.

claim your name.

assign you a number

Destroy everything that differs from their idea of the order

Muzzle with morality that would silence every scream

Follow the leader — he knows how you should live

There is no need of questions, doubts are for the weak

You will obey, you will repent.

you will crawl

Strong in your doctrines.

unhampered in your dogmas

You’ve been shown the only path (no shortcuts. no reroutes)