The Family of Mindless Acceptance

The Family sang,
in hippie drab
spinning, twirling,
flushed, and elated.
Overcome with victory,
also the lingering aroma of blood
permeated to their robes, and frocks.
This incident would not turn their game to
tragedy.
Tittering rapidly,
living with the fresh agony
of those that will never laugh again.
So the Family lives on for them
keeps them in memory as a symbol,
because a symbol is simple to destroy.

Blind the obedient ones stood
hoovering over their emblems
with their weapons clutched
tearing into their guilty palms.
Followers, they felt they needn't
take the blame.
Petty flowers, weeds even,
adorning a garden.
Which Manson watered
with precision, and patience.

A wicked being,
those that were his beloved,
honored him as either a gift from above
or an unleashed demon from below.
Which ever they worshiped,
mattered not for in their helpless eyes,
worn from trips too deep to entail,
they believed him.

Demented schemes
flourished between the campfire light,
and the stolen minds.
His beard jolted frantically
as he spoke of a war raging in the hearts
of the Pale and the Dark.
That these meaningless murders they will commit,
will retire his Family
reining at the end of this war.
He declared the revolution
was just around the corner.
If they stuck by his side
they will be rewarded infinitely.

And so his Family painted red
"Healter Skelter"
'cross the walls of the innocent.
The press were in shambles
to report such a horrific scene,
One hundred and sixty nine
holes they carved into their symbols,
leaving not a trace of their identity
at the sight.

But like the law of gravity states,
whatever goes up
must come down.
So they fell,
a weak chain in the link
broke the Family to pieces.
The devil sits behind iron and steal today,
still whispering his message
spreading like a plague to all that hear.