The Color Of Cult

In the hue of a cult,
A pigment
Of devotion
Disperses thickly,
Soaked into every layer,
A tapestry
Of beliefs
Spun wide.
A chromatic
Allegiance,
Cast from embryonic
Trusts,
Staking claims
On retinas,
Seductive
In its allure.

Crimson,
The color of cult,
A shade of fervor
That blinds,
Saturating vision
With zeal,
Painting illusions
On minds.
From outstretched arms,
Adoration drips,
Pooling,
As if love
Can be contained,
Confined within
Tangled hearts.

Emerald,
The color of cult,
A shade of envy
And greed,
Luring in with promises,
Veiling truth
Like seaweed.
Whispers of power lurk,
Where ideals
Turn rotten,
Avarice intertwined,
Vowing truths
Long forgotten.

Indigo,
The color of cult,
A mask of wisdom worn,
Hiding shadows
Beneath,
A platform
For truths false-born.
Mesmerizing
In mystique,
A shroud
Of deepest thought,
Endowing shades
Of purpose,
To actions
Wrongly wrought.

Lemon,
The color of cult,
The sweetest tang
Seduces,
A sour taste,
Once consumed,
Poisonous truths
It produces.
Euphoria
Drowns reason,
Citrus bliss
Distracts,
As individuals dissolve,
Into a single
Kaleidoscope act.

Violet,
The color of cult,
The line between
Passion and pain,
A gradient that blurs,
Until distinctions
Wane.
Boundaries
Become hazy,
In pursuit
Of collective solace,
As purple haze
Descends,
Imbuing minds
With paralysis.

The color of cult,
A prism
With fractured light,
Drawing seekers
Into its web,
Until they are consumed
By the fight.
A palette
Of emotions,
Swirling
In shades and sheen,
Forever branded
As disciples,
In colors
Of the unseen.