Oh, good Lord.
Were you borne of love or was woven to a word?
I believe that a choir only have sung hymns — in your name, re-enacting kindness through loud utters of loving cruelty.

Because if love was found in the womb of a human heart, I wouldn't see a false God in my mother's womb.

However,
It is not you who sing the utters.
It is not them who are caged in a web made of purposeful mistranslation.
So, I hold no malice for you.

For you have not a mouth, yet — they feed you the receipt of words.