In rigid halls of dogma's might,
Begotry's dark shadow takes its right,
A fortress built on fear and scorn,
Where differences are met with disdain born.
The zealot's voice, a strident cry,
Echoes through the void, a divisive sigh,
Intolerance breeds in every line,
A world of others, cast in decline.
The narrow path, a rigid creed,
Leaves no room for hearts that freely...
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