Braced against the grip of choices
  Memories of the gentle ways
  Stained by a thousand voices
  Yearning for a shaft of light
    Catergorized
  And labeled an affliction
  Delivered naked into this world
  Dehumanized
  And cast down
  From the savage grip of the process
    This is not some kind of holy vision
  Holding back a great dogmatic tide
  Rinsed clean of servile derision
  Gaining passage to the other side