The key to get as many people in to a high control group. the objective nobody matters.
The Faithful Fold
They gather at the Kingdom Hall each week,
With Watchtower pages worn and creased,
They nod along to every word they speak,
From Brooklyn’s tower, truth released.
“The light gets brighter,” so they’re told,
As doctrines shift from year to year,
The faithful flock, both young and old,
Accept each change without a fear.
They knock on doors from street to street,
With magazines clutched in their hand,
Believing every word they meet
Comes from God’s perfect, holy plan.
But high above in office towers,
The Governing Body holds the reins,
While rank-and-file spend countless hours
Bound tight in organizational chains.
They think they’ve found the narrow way,
The only truth that sets men free,
Yet every thought and word they say
Is filtered through bureaucracy.
The irony runs deep and true—
They seek escape from worldly control,
But find themselves ensnared anew
By those who claim to save their soul