Fractions of sunlight escape clouds of grey,

Rays ricocheting off ancient stone walls:

A Testament to the new, dawning day;

A so-called "infection" of hallowed halls.

Is there a promise of sanctuary

amid pieces of psychedelic glass?

An end to monotone monogamy

and perpetual political farce?

These words of hate are built with bricks of straw

by those that walk the straight and narrow path,

their gaze avoiding every closet door,

writing restrictions on others' behalf.

The day has come, for us to redefine

Choices which are yours, choices which are mine.