Raised and bound into an indomitable religion,
it is sad to be you; narrow-minded, selfless pigeon.
So sanctimonious, looking down your nose at me;
so prudish, thinking you are better than me.
You suspect me of soliciting with Satan, Bel and Legion
just because I do not share your vision
-yet, still, you yearn to ask me: ''how does it feel to be free?''
well, sever your wings, burn your halo and you tell me.